Fanning the Embers
by lemonfox2002
Summary: The sexual tension was too much, and it went too far. Is their friendship ruined? And what happens when the lights in the TARDIS suddenly die? (takes place after Playing with Fire, rated M for lots of lemons) FINAL CHAPTER UPLOADED
1. Ch 1 - Fanning the Embers

A/N This is a continuation of tasty-kate's story "Playing With Fire" which I simply ADORED and could not let rest.

**All characters owned by the BBC.**

_Amy is moving faster, her head dropped back and her mouth opened slightly as she pants for air. Her neck looks entirely way too tempting and he pushes away his thoughts as he leans in to kiss her collar bone. The touch of his lips on her skin skyrockets Amy out of his lap. She gives him a quick look, flushed face from arousal and possible embarrassment._

_And then she turns around and leaves._

* * *

Amy strode into the console room, taking a quick scan to make sure it was empty. She walked over to the console, and leaned against it, closing her eyes.

She was shattered.

Ever since that… moment… with the doctor last week she had not slept well. And Rory was noticing. She kept catching him looking at her with a worried expression on his face, and no amount of fake smiles seemed to reassure him.

It had gone too far, that moment. She had been lost in the feel of his body between her thighs. After all his teasing she had finally been in control. But then she had lost that control to her own animal impulses.

It had to stop.

But did she want it to stop?

She felt lost, unable to choose between the safe warm comfort of Rory and the deep unfathomable lure of the Doctor. Her Doctor.

Unbidden, the memory of his face, looking up at her with those green eyes as she stood over him, crept into her mind. She opened her eyes quickly, discovering that she had been holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh as her head dropped forward in exhaustion.

As she looked down, she suddenly saw the top of his head through the glass floor. She smacked a hand to her mouth, wondering if he had heard her.

She had managed to avoid being alone with him, choosing to focus her attention on adventures and alien planets, not knowing how to act in his presence.

He was sitting in his hammock, staring intently at whatever he was working on. She stepped away from the console, hoping to back away, but-

"Leaving so soon?"

His voice rang out, but he did not look up.

"Um, I…" her voice came out hoarse, forcing her to clear it and start again "I was just seeing if you needed any help?" The excuse came easily.

"I do as a matter of fact." He lifted his head and stared up at her through his goggles. She was suddenly aware of her skirt and the implications of the glass floor, and squeezed her legs together. If he noticed he did not react.

"Ideally I would have an extra pair of hands."

He looked up at her for just a beat too long, but then snapped his attention back to the TARDIS parts in front of him.

"I did, briefly. They were a present from the Emperor Finbar of the planet Querubius Torrent. Lovely chap, liked to experiment. Unfortunately he ended up being dethroned when he decided his real life calling was to be a fish therapist."

"A fish therapist?" Amy found herself drawn back into their usual friendly chatter. She turned from the console and walked towards the stairs.

"Yes, he spent years learning to speak their particular dialect and in the end had to choose between being ruler of the Torrentians or surgically acquiring gills. They don't allow both you see." As she reached the bottom of the stairs he thrust a cable he was holding back into its external introducer and swung his hammock chair around to face her.

"I need you to hold this." He held out a metal contraption she didn't recognise. She extended her hand and he dropped it in.

She noticed he avoided touching her fingers.

"Is it broken?" She asked.

"In a way," he replied obscurely "It's changed setting for a reason I cannot fathom, and I need to use both hands on the sonic screwdriver to forcibly reboot it." Amy turned it over in her hands, feeling the cold, smooth surface. It was just part of a machine, and yet she knew in fact it was part of his precious TARDIS, the only thing in the world the Doctor could really depend on.

She felt as though she was a nurse holding the organ of a patient.

"Here," the Doctor stood up, rolling up his sleeves as he did so, and nodded his head at the hammock. She sat down on it, with the metal box held out in front of her as the Doctor picked up his screwdriver from the floor.

As he crouched down, one of the straps of his braces slipped off his shoulder, and Amy's heart seemed to skip a beat in her chest. She looked away quickly, back down at the TARDIS part, and letting out a quiet breath.

He was only a foot away, and as he looked around at her his fringe fell in front of his eyes. Suddenly he was just her Doctor. The one who had sat in her kitchen all those years ago eating fish fingers with custard. Her raggedy Doctor. She smiled at him, and he grinned back, his face lighting up.

"That's better! It's been too long since I last saw a happy expression on that face."

Remaining crouched on the floor, he put one hand under her two hands, raising them slightly so the part was at his eye level. His fingers were warm, and the contact triggered a rush of emotion in her chest. She realised she had missed him, missed the easy happiness that being in his company brought her.

He pointed his screwdriver at the contraption and used one hand to turn the head whilst the other pressed the button. The metal grew slightly warm in her hands, then suddenly very cold. She gasped at the sudden temperature change.

"Sorry!" He dropped the sonic screwdriver in his haste to pluck the part out of her hands. "The reaction can be slightly unpredictable." He turned and placed the box in slot under the console. The console lit up as soon as it made contact.

"That's better eh, old girl?" The Doctor patted the underside of the TARDIS's console affectionately.

Then, just as suddenly as they had come on, the lights flickered and died. Along with every light in the room.

* * *

A/N What will happen in the dark of the console room? Next chapter coming soon!


	2. Ch 2 - Sparks in the Dark

**All characters owned by the BBC**_  
_

_"That's better eh, old girl?" The Doctor patted the underside of the TARDIS's console affectionately._

_Then, just as suddenly as they had come on, the lights flickered and died. Along with every light in the room._

* * *

Amy stifled a scream that came out as a squeak.

"It's alright." She felt his warm hand rest on her knee reassuringly. "She's just readjusting to the new settings. There's no need to be scared."

"I wasn't scared!" Amy snapped back indignantly. "I was just surprised."

"Of course" He chuckled, and she could just picture the expression of amusement on his face.

"Shut up" she growled, lashing out with her hand.

It was meant to be a playful if annoyed slap, but the Doctor wasn't where she though he was, and the sudden redistribution of her weight lurched her forwards, off the hammock, and hard onto the floor. Her ankle bent and a spasm of pain shot up her leg. A whimper slipped from her lips and she clutched her foot, breathing heavily.

She heard a clatter as the Doctor pushed equipment out of his way to get to her.

"Amy! Are you alright?" She felt his hands gently support her injured ankle.

"That really hurt." She moaned, pain removing any bravado she might have had.

"You humans are so breakable." He muttered under his breath. Such a remark might previously have sparked a retort from her, but there was a trace of sadness in his tone that stopped it in her throat.

"It's OK, I'm fine."

A warm orange light flared up in the cracks between his fingers, and she felt the pain replaced by a tingling sensation. The little sparkles of light shone like the light from a candle, illuminating his face and his sombre expression.

He glanced up at her, and she suddenly saw the ghost of a new emotion across his face. Was it… resentment?

"You are now." He rumbled, as the light died away, leaving them in the dark once more.

"You didn't have to do that." She whispered, pointing her healed foot towards him and poking him with her toe. His hands were still around her ankle, and as she poked him one glided up her shin, slipped under her knee and back down her calf muscle, which shuddered in surprise. Before she could say anything his hands were gone, letting her leg drop. She felt slightly empty at the loss of their warmth.

She heard the sound of the hammock being sat in directly behind her, and then his voice was in her ear.

"Up you get, Pond."

His hand was on her shoulder. In the dark neither of them could tell where the other was. He ran his hand down her arm to feel for her hand. It was only to provide support, but his gliding touch made her heart race. He started to pull her up, but instead of letting her get fully to her feet, he placed a hand firmly on her hip and guided her back into the hammock, securing her between his legs with his arms around her waist.

"Now you can't injure yourself."

Her back was against his chest, her thighs framed by his. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Suddenly the dark was electric. It was as if the hammock was a precipice on which she was balancing, with the Doctor's arms the only thing stopping her from plummeting downwards…

She felt him rest his forehead between her shoulder blades, and his rumbling voice just reached her ears.

"Oh Amy, what have you done to me…"

His hands clenched suddenly, gripping the flesh of her waist, before relaxing. She sensed he was about to let go, and reflexively planted her own arms firmly over his.

"Don't leave me, Doctor."

He tightened his embrace, pressing her tightly against him.

"Never."

His nose was nuzzling her shoulder, and then his lips were kissing her back. She closed her eyes, although the darkness was just as black either way, and leant her head back into him as he kissed up her neck.

"What are you doing to me…" He whispered into her hair. One of his arms left her waist, and his fingers lightly brushed up the inside of her thigh. A lightening bolt of pleasure sparked between his fingertips and her groin, and she sucked in a breath.

_Doctor…_

"Doctor? Are you there?" A loud clatter as someone descended the stairs and walked onto the glass floor above them. The Doctor seized her hips and hoisted her up off the hammock, propelling her away from him.

"Rory the Roman, just what we need in this time of crisis!"

She heard the Doctor's voice travel past her and imagined him springing from his seat and towards the stairs.

"What happened?" Called Rory.

"Nothing to worry about, the TARDIS is just changing her settings to meet the compatibility needs of the new gravity converter."

"Oh, why is that a crisis?"

Amy clasped her hand to her mouth; worried her shallow panting would be heard by her husband only feet above her.

"Because we have a sudden lack of visibility that can be solved, I believe, by the torch you always keep next to your bed."

"Oh right, yeah, I'll go and get it."

As the sound of his footsteps receded, Amy dropped her hand and gripped the cable she was leaning against. Then the Doctor's hand was in her hair, clenching it in a ball next to her cheek, and she sensed his face was mere inches from hers.

"I just-" His lowered voice faltered, and to her it seemed as though his very being was cracking. She stared at him, and could just make out the gleam in his eyes through the darkness, and the contorted expression on his face.

"What we would do to each other..." He breathed. His hand slipped from her hair down to her chest, resting over her heart, which was still beating heavily.

"…Doctor don't go." She heard a hitch in her voice.

His eyebrows furrowed, and as Rory's torchlight filtered into the room she caught a glimpse of his tortured expression, before he swiftly backed away from her and up the stairs.

* * *

A/N Oh the sexual tension is just delicious. It's only going to get scrummier everyone!


	3. Ch 3 - Putting Out Fire With Gasoline

A/N This chapter is a bit longer than the previous two, with a juicy ending :P

**All characters owned by the BBC**

_"…Doctor don't go." She heard a hitch in her voice._

_His eyebrows furrowed, and as Rory's torchlight filtered into the room she caught a glimpse of his tortured expression, before he swiftly backed away from her and up the stairs._

* * *

Stuck. Stuck in a quaint little alien suburb. The TARDIS was supposed to be able to take them to unimaginable places and times, and for the past week they'd been somewhere indistinguishable from an English village except that the people were blue.

"Why is the TARDIS taking so long to fix herself?" Amy had asked the Doctor after the first two days.

"It's not her fault," he had answered defensively "She's never had to reacclimatise to a new setting in this quadrant of the solar system. The gravity change must have altered her circuit preferences."

But despite his arguments, he was getting bored too, she could tell.

They were staying with a lovely young (blue) couple he seemed to know from some previous excursion. As far as Amy could tell, the male of the couple was some sort of technician, and the female was exceedingly pregnant (they weren't always easy to understand as they had two tongues). They were spending their days helping the two aliens do up their house and move in baby furniture.

The Doctor had spent the first couple of days helping with considerable vigour, excited as always to be in a new place and seeing another culture. After the novelty wore off, however, he had started developing some rather amusing twitches, undoubtedly due to the lack of adventures to be had.

Amy wasn't quite as bored. She was very interested in their hosts, Ketriera and Soloquan, who were obviously deeply in love. She found herself slightly indignant about certain aspects of their behaviour, however. She had begun to notice that Soloquan was very assertive over his other half, and expected her to service his every need. It made Amy very uncomfortable, watching Ketriera scuttle about obediently. Especially when she saw Rory watching them curiously.

"They're so happy together." He mused to her one evening.

"I suppose," she answered "but don't you think it's kind of weird how …subservient she is?"

Rory glanced at her warily "It's just a different culture Amy, they behave differently."

"Do you sometimes wish I was more like that?" She watched his reaction out of the corner of her eye. His features remained blank.

"I love you the way you are." He stated simply. Her heart warmed and she smiled at him. She got up off the bed they were sharing and approached their bathroom to brush her teeth, feeling warm and light.

"Except… maybe sometimes…" His voice trailed off hesitantly. She whipped her head back around the frame of the bathroom door, eyes glaring warningly.

"Sometimes _what?_" He looked at her, a scared expression on his face.

"Nothing, you're perfect. Wouldn't change a thing." Amy fixed her gaze on him menacingly, breathing hard as anger flared up inside her.

"I'm not about to become a stay at home housewife, you do know that?" She was biting back her aggravation, clenching her teeth to try and retain some composure.

"That's not what I'm saying." Rory huffed dismissively.

"Well then what are you saying? Out with it!"

"I just think they seem very content with the way things are, whereas you…" he gesticulated widely, as though vainly trying to verbalise all the difficulties Amy brought him. Then he let his arms drop and looked directly into her face. "You ran away the night before our wedding with another man."

"In a time machine!"

"With another man." He repeated grimly.

They stood, looking at each other across a gulf.

"I don't want to be cooped up in some suburban home, looking after your children while you go out and accomplish your dreams."

"I'm not saying you have to- "

"But don't you see that's where this will end up? You want to be a doctor Rory, and that's a full time job, more than full time! And you want kids! Are you planning on hiring a nanny?"

Rory looked taken aback, as though the thought had never occurred to him. In that moment feelings she had never felt towards this boy began to surface. Bitterness, and contempt. Had he really never considered the kind of cage he was leading her into? She was Amelia Pond! She had rescued a star whale and inspired one of the greatest painters of all time! Was she to disappear into a normal life and lose all of what she had found with the Doctor?

Rory was still looking at her.

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to take care of our children?"

"I don't want that to be… I don't want to become that kind of…" She looked into his blue eyes and knew that what she was about to say would change things forever.

"I want to be more than that."

Rory bent his head so that a shadow was cast over his face.

"More than my wife?"

"If that's what being your wife means to you," she said "then yes."

The seconds ticked by. Amy stood in the doorway watching Rory, whilst he stared resolutely down at the bed spread.

He broke the silence.

"Maybe we should cool off. I'll go and sleep downstairs tonight." He pushed himself off the bed with a squeaking of springs. Walking past her without looking at her, left the room.

Amy let herself fall back against the door frame. Her mind was numb. What would happen next? What did this mean? Even though she had finally confronted Rory with her true thoughts, she felt as though she had triggered an avalanche of future consequences. No going back now.

She leveraged herself off the doorframe and followed Rory out of the door, but turned the opposite direction down the hallway. She knew what she was looking for. As she reached the end of it a door swung open and he came out wearing nothing but his trousers, the braces hanging loosely by his sides. He looked up at her, his fringe covering his forehead, lips pressed together in that way of his. His eyes crinkled into a smile when he saw her.

"Amy!" He noticed her stony expression and his face fell "What's wrong?"

She strode towards him, placed a hand firmly in the middle of his chest and pushed him back into the wall, her face directly in front of his so he had to strain to keep her in focus. She looked into his innocent green eyes with a kind of fury, and then smashed her lips against his.

There was a muffled noise of surprise, and then of delight, before his arms were around her, pulling her even more flush against him. One of his hands meshed itself into the hair behind her head, holding it in place, as the other pressed into the small of her back. His lips were soft and yet they kissed hers so insistently.

Conflicting emotions coursed through Amy's body, anger and desire almost interchangeable, and she caught his bottom lip between her teeth. Hard. A growl emitted from the Doctor's throat as the hand in her hair yanked her head back away from him. He scanned her face, eyes dark, before bending his head to her neck and running his tongue along her collarbone. She breathed a moan. She could feel her nipples tingle at the closeness of his mouth, even though he was still so far away. Then his lips clamped down and he was sucking her neck ferociously. Her hands were all over him, feeling his flat stomach and the muscles in his arms. She brushed the back of her hand against the bulge at his crotch and felt the excitement in her chest build. With that fleeting contact the Doctor moved with startling swiftness, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her legs around his hips.

She squealed and clasped his shoulders to stop herself from falling, but he was striding forwards to press her against the opposite wall. She met it with a deep thud and felt the bulge in his crotch push against the wet patch between her legs. Then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue against hers; an invading force. Her head was foggy with lust, her body flushed with excitement, and she let out a sighing mew of longing. His body responded, his hips grinding into her, the friction forcing their mouths to break apart so they could pant into each others lips. Her hands were clawing at his bare back, and she pushed herself against the wall so she could move her hips in time with his.

"Wait… wait…" His grip stilled her hips and he looked into her hot and flustered face, his mouth open from breathing heavily. She saw the concern on his face.

"I'm fine doctor," she told him, catching his bottom lip between her finger and thumb and pulling his face back towards hers. He let go of her hips and raised his hands to encircle her wrists. He held them between their torsos and looked sincerely into her eyes.

"Amy don't misunderstand me, I've been thinking about you- about this- for so long…" His gazed flicked down to her panting mouth, and he seemed to briefly lose focus. Then he screwed up his eyes and shook his head slightly as though to clear it.

"Amy who are you thinking about right now?"

"Isn't that obvious?" She asked, emphasising with a buck of her hips against his. His responded almost unthinkingly, grinding into her.

"Amelia…" His voice seemed to come from deep within his chest as his head sank into her neck. She let her head fall back against the wall, enjoying the warm wetness of his mouth against her skin. Then his lips were against her ear.

"I know when you're lying to me."

* * *

A/N Thanks for all your reviews! Just let me know if you have any constructive criticism or deep dark desires for these two.


	4. Ch 4 - The Flames Begin to Spread

****A/N This chapter is a lot shorter, but believe me it doesn't lack in lemons.

**All characters owned by the BBC**

_"Amelia…" His voice seemed to come from deep within his chest as his head sank into her neck. She let her head fall back against the wall, enjoying the warm wetness of his mouth against her skin. Then his lips were against her ear._

_"I know when you're lying to me."_

* * *

He pulled back from her slightly to look into her eyes. His expression was of disappointment, his fringe casting a shadow over his face. In one movement he lifted her wrists and planted them above her head. Holding them both in one hand, he held her chin with the other and with that she was trapped. His face was so close to hers she could only see his silhouette.

She felt his hot breath as he murmured, "Don't insult me, Pond."

She was immobile, locked between the wall and his body. She raised an eyebrow.

"You're assuming my thoughts are any of your business."

His voice was indignant. "Not my business? When you accost me outside my bathroom your motivations for doing so are entirely my business."

"I didn't exactly hear your protests." She teased, her lips curling into a smile.

His eyes flashed, and he swiftly caught her lower lip between his teeth. As the bite turned into a feverish kiss, the hand holding her jaw skimmed down her body and between her legs. The sudden and unexpected contact triggered a thrill of sensation in her body. He squeezed her backside and started using his thumb to rub up and down the crotch of her tights. The heat in her groin started to build.

She tore her mouth away from his and gasped for air as his teeth descended on her neck. Sparks of electric current shot between the heat in her groin to the tips of her breasts and the ends of her fingers. Her gut twisted in anticipation as his thumb circled her clit. She was climbing the wave, moments more of this and she would break.

His hand was still holding her wrists above her head, and as she tilted on the edge of her climax he enmeshed their fingers together and squeezed.

"Let go for me."

And like that her muscles relaxed, and the waves of her orgasm crashed through her, leaving her panting and quaking in his embrace. Her let her arm drop, and lowered her legs to the ground, keeping hold of her as she leant into him.

She felt his hand entwine in her hair, and smiled into his bare shoulder. She wanted more, really. There was a gaping, hungry hole where she wanted him, but now didn't feel like the right time. Not when she was so confused about everything, about Rory…

She felt tears in her eyes, and wiped them away quickly, not wanting him to notice. But of course he did.

"I knew there was something wrong."

She lifted her face to meet his gaze. He looked worried, but unsurprised.

"It's OK Amy, I know you're confused. And I know I'm not innocent in this…" She silenced him with her mouth on his. The kiss was long and hungry, and he clenched his fist in her hair as she clasped the back of his neck. When they parted she noticed how much lighter she felt, how everything felt simpler, even though it wasn't.

"I'm here, Amy." He told her reassuringly, resting his forehead against hers. She stroked the hair at the base of his skull, and he closed his eyes. They remained like that for a few peaceful moments.

"Time for bed, I think." He said, opening his eyes. They were so close she could see all the flecks of green and grey, scattering out from his pupils. They parted, but as she walked away he kept hold of her hand for as long as the length of their arms would allow him to.

* * *

A/N Little bit of fluff at the end there. He is her Doctor after all. Review!


	5. Ch 5 - Like Fire and Ice and Rage

A/N This one is from the Doctor's POV. Enjoy!

**All character belong to the Beeb**

_"Time for bed, I think." He said, opening his eyes. They were so close she could see all the flecks of green and grey, scattering out from his pupils. They parted, but as she walked away he kept hold of her hand for as long as the length of their arms would allow him to._

* * *

He watched her retreating figure and sighed to himself. Blimey was she intoxicating.

When she had cocked her eyebrow at him he had been in a serious dilemma whether or not to teach her a lesson for showing him such cheek. That part of him had wanted to bring her to the edge but hold back at the last minute, just to show her what happened if you toyed with a Time Lord. But she was obviously fragile tonight, underneath all her bravado. He didn't know the specifics but he guessed it was to do with Rory.

How could her marriage be smooth sailing when she kept lighting these fiery moments with her Doctor?

Later that night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He wasn't particularly big on sleeping, but what else was there to do, stuck in someone else's house with an unusable TARDIS? He had already painted all the rooms and landscaped the garden. He wasn't sure his contributions were welcome; Ketriera and Soloquan were so reserved with their opinions it was hard to tell.

He turned onto his side and looked at his reflection in the mirror next to the bed. Those lips had been on her skin only hours ago…

_Well that's hardly going to help you sleep is it._

What would he do if Amy changed her mind about Rory? She wouldn't make that decision lightly. Rory was embedded in her just as much as her Raggedy Doctor was.

_Do you really want to hurt her like that?_

It would be her decision though. Not his.

_Because you're just an unbiased onlooker, aren't you?_

She would do what she wanted.

_You know what she wants. _

The image of Amy, straddling him, mouth open in ecstasy, came unbidden into his mind.

_She wants to keep you both, her obedient boys, trotting along after her, always waiting in case she chooses you._

He sat bolt up right and smacked himself in the head with the palm of his hand in an effort to rid his mind of this internal monologue.

_The oncoming storm? You don't even have the stones to say no to her. She made her decision, remember? She married him! And yet you come when she calls like the flop-haired puppy dog that you are._

He sprang out of bed, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts any longer.

The kitchen light was already on. A blue figure was moving about, pouring something into a glass.

"Good evening, Doctor."

"Good morning I think, Soloquan."

The blue man turned, holding two glasses of rich toffee coloured liquid.

"We do not make such differentiations here." He placed a glass on the counter in front of the Doctor. "You cannot sleep? You drink." With that, he knocked his own glass back in one. The Doctor held up his own glass in contemplation.

"Is it like wine? I have yet to grow fond of wine."

"No, not wine. Like… Sweet fire." Soloquan filled his own glass again.

"Well then, bottom's up." The Doctor tipped the contents of his glass back, and tasted a caramel sweetness that burnt its way down his throat. Soloquan nodded approvingly. As the hours ticked by, they continued to drink together. They discussed politics, ethics, technological and scientific advancements, and the subjective appeal of female facial hair.

"Ketriera refuses to grow any, but I think one day she will be curious and then she will try."

The Doctor chuckled, holding out his glass for another refill. "She's a lovely girl, you two seem very happy together."

"Yes I think so, for now. Some day soon though I think I will take another wife. Maybe after the baby is born and Ketriera is too busy for me."

"Ah, tricky business, multiple wives. Never quite turns out the way one might wish."

"It needs a firm man with a firm hand." Soloquan agreed, nodding his head sagely. "I think maybe I ask Amy the redhead to be wife. She has been so helpful, and I see that she is not so faithful to her husband."

The Doctor felt the blood leave his face. He narrowed his eyes, but kept them carefully fixed on his glass. "What are you talking about?"

"The way she looks at other men, she seems like she is a fire in the bedroom, no? And I think you know, Doctor, if she stays under my roof I can eventually claim her as my common law wife? Then all that is needed is to get rid of her gutless husband and she is mine. She will love it, Ketriera and her get on so well, and she will finally learn how to submit like a woman should."

Throughout this little speech the Doctor sat frozen, the blood roaring in his ears. His Amy -his glorious, beautiful, fierce Amy- forced to wed this monster? He had known Soloquan for a long time, and had always accepted he had a different lifestyle, but this was unacceptable. This was Amy.

He stood up, a raging storm behind his eyes.

"You will never touch her." He declared, magnificent in his anger. He turned and strode towards the door.

"But Doctor, surely you do not-" The Doctor cut him off with a single thunderous glare.

* * *

A/N Believe it or not, the next chapter is already written! Maybe if you review, darlings, I will post it sooner rather than later :P


	6. Ch 6 - Can't Stand the Heat

****A/N Wow so many reviews! Thanks dearies :) You shall be rewarded!

**All characters belong to the BBC**

_He stood up, a raging storm behind his eyes._

_"You will never touch her." He declared, magnificent in his anger. He turned and strode towards the door._

_"But Doctor, surely you do not-" The Doctor cut him off with a single thunderous glare._

* * *

"_Never toy with a Time Lord, Amelia Pond."_

_She was handcuffed to a railing in the console room, her arms behind her back, her shirt torn open. The Doctor was towering over her, his face in shadow, his sonic screwdriver in his hand by his side. Danger rippled off him in waves, and she felt a thrill course through her body._

_"You need to punish me, Doctor"_

_He dropped into a crouch in front of her and held her face steady in a vice-like grip. _

_"Obviously." He stuck his thumb in her mouth, and she sucked it greedily, lapping at it with her tongue. He chuckled darkly._

_"Save those moves for later." _

_He held the screwdriver up in front of her face, the green light shining off his lips._

_"Now where should I put this…"_

_..._

She was shaken from her dreams by her door being thrown open. The Doctor stood in her doorway, his shadow stretched across her bed. Was this a dream? His fury radiated from him like energy.

"We're leaving." He stated simply.

"But, what? Why?"

"Because I said so!" He shouted, leaving her to dazedly shove all her clothes into a bag and trip after him.

"Rory, get up, we're leaving." The Doctor barked as they walked through the living room.

"Leaving…?" Rory croaked from the sofa. "What about my things?"

"I've got them." Amy told him, animosity forgotten in the confusion of the situation. Rory stumbled to his feet and looked around. Soloquan was coming through from the kitchen.

"Doctor, really, there is no need for this. What connection do you have to this woman?"

"What?" asked Rory.

"Thank you, Soloquan, for your hospitality, but we are departing your company. Please give our thanks to Ketriera for her wonderful cooking and marvellous jokes."

With that, the Doctor span on his heel and left the room, his companions following in his wake.

_..._

"Doctor, what on earth was that about?" Rory demanded when they got inside the TARDIS. The Doctor was already at the console, pressing buttons and pulling leavers. Lights began to flicker on.

"She's still in recovery mode but there's enough power in her for one journey. I'm dropping you two home."

"What? Why?" They both asked in unison.

"Because I can't be dealing with… _this_," he motioned towards them aggressively, not looking away from the console.

"Not anymore. Others always told me never get involved with humans, they're too messy, and what do I always do? Get involved! And what always happens?" He span around and marched towards them.

"You mess. Things. Up!"

He stopped short of them, his expression stormy. His eyes darted between their faces and he clenches his fists.

"So you're going. Now."

He stomped back to the console and proceeded to throw switches. The engines whirred to life with their familiar groan.

Rory leaned towards Amy, his voice lowered.

"Did you say anything-"

"_No!" _she hissed.

Rory reached out and took hold of her hand. They stood on the outskirts of the room as the Doctor span and circled the console in a flurry of movement.

"Maybe we should go home. Spend some time together?" Rory muttered to her under his breath. She remained silent.

Moments later, the engines had stopped and the Doctor was swinging the door open. He stood aside and flung an arm out, directing them out of the TARDIS.

Rory led her forwards, but as she reached the threshold, and saw the look in the Doctor's eyes, she found she could not pass over it.

"No."

"What?" Rory looked back at her, a picture of confusion. The Doctor was facing away, his eyes closed, as though trying to remain calm.

"I'm not going. You can't decide where I go. Either of you. I'm staying here." She let go of Rory's hand and took a step back. The Doctor glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

"Fine." Rory said, his tone resigned. "I suppose we can have some time apart. To _think_." His expression was of stone. Amy shuddered inwardly at the coldness of it, but nodded her agreement.

"Maybe you'll get the adventurer out of your system." He turned his eyes on the Doctor, before turning around and walking away. He didn't look back.

Amy let out a shuddering breath and turned to the Doctor. He was watching her, his face slightly in shadow.

As he closed the doors, Amy felt as if a chord between her and her husband was being severed. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. Then a sob rose in her throat that she couldn't suppress. Her legs trembled as misery descended over her, and she slid down the wall of the TARDIS to curl up on the floor.

As she hit the cold metal, her thoughts turned to Rory, to all the childhood memories. He had believed her when no one else had, he had stayed up with her, had been the stable friend she'd needed, and then the stable lover.

She had lost him so many time on their adventures, had felt him ripped out of her life again and again only to appear again, magically, impossibly. But this time she had done the ripping. She had pushed him away, given up his security for… for what? For excitement and adventure?

Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?

She felt warm arms circle beneath her and pull her into a sitting position. The Doctor kneeled down beside her, cradling her, sheltering her. She buried her face in his chest, his bowtie brushing the top of her head as she began to weep openly. She felt his lips against her forehead.

After a while the sobs subsided, and she was left exhausted. The tears didn't stop, but her eyelids were so heavy…

"Come along, Pond"

He hoisted her up off the floor, and carried her towards the stairs. He felt his two hearts grow heavy in his chest; heavy with worry for her, for them both, for their future.

As he walked, she nestled her head against him, and fell asleep to the harmony of his two heartbeats in her ear.

* * *

A/N This chapter almost wrote itself, like the characters were up there doing it all and I was down here, the lowly scribe to their actions.

Review and let me know what you think! Particularly whether you're in the mood for a little adventure? The Doctor does get restless without them, and Amy seems like she needs reminding why she got on this TARDIS in the first place.


	7. Ch 7 - Can't See For The Smoke

A/N Brief escapade before the promised adventure

**All characters belong to the BBC**

_"Come along, Pond"_

_He hoisted her up off the floor, and carried her towards the stairs. He felt his two hearts, heavy in his chest; heavy with worry for her, for them both, for their future. As he walked, she nestled her head against him, and fell asleep to the sound of his two heartbeats in her ear._

* * *

He lay beside her, watching her red hair flutter in front of her face as she breathed rhythmically in her sleep. His face was so close to hers he could count the freckles on her nose.

_Amy_

His chest was constricted with worry. He had let Rory leave without her. He had closed the door on Rory's retreating back. He really wanted to talk to her to understand what she was thinking. He couldn't stand the idea of her resenting him.

"_Amy…_"

Her name passed through his lips, barely a whisper. He wanted her to be awake, but at the same time did not want to wake her. He raised his hand and softly traced the outline of her face, her jawline, her eyebrows, her lips…

As his finger gently moved over her nose, she frowned in her sleep and turned her face away from his hand. _Damn._

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Minutes ticked by, and the weight in his chest grew heavier and heavier, until it was unbearable. He needed to talk to her. He turned his head so his lips were next to her ear.

"_Amy…_"

He couldn't force his voice to be any louder than a murmer, the silence in the TARDIS was so sleepy, so peaceful, he didn't dare break it. He reached up a hand and smoothed her flaming red locks.

"_Amy…_"

To his surprise, he heard the sound of inhaling, and suddenly she was talking. It was a rapid rush of sounds, only a sentence, but he didn't catch what they were. They sounded impatient, and the Doctor felt like a child being scalded for waking his mother.

Silence.

The Doctor rolled onto his side, hovering over her. He hesitated, and then nudged her gently.

"Amy?"

She made a groaning noise. He decided she had been sleep talking, and rolled onto his back again, this time looking at the ceiling.

_Oh Amy. What have we done?_

If she was actually choosing him over Rory, then this should be a moment of triumph, of relief.

_But has she chosen you, or are you just her way out of tiny little Leadworth?_

"Doctor…"

Her sleepy murmer hovered in the air, heavy with longing. He held his breath, waiting for more.

"…don't leave…"

_I'm not going anywhere. _

She was stirring, her eyes were still closed, but her legs thrashed sleepily, kicked the blankets off her, revealing a nighty that was hitched up around her waist.

"…don't leave me Doctor."

Her hand crept towards her pink underwear, fingertips burrowing under the elastic lining. The Doctor felt blood rush to his face and to… other areas.

_No, no! Leave, now!_

But she had just told him not to leave.

He hovered next to her, muscles tense, about to run but unwilling to. He glanced away from her wandering hand, gaze resting on her face, eyes closed, brows slightly furrowed. She let out a little moan that made him want to drag her towards him.

Her hand disappeared beneath the fabric of her knickers, and her wrist arched up. The image of her fingers slipping inside her wet folds sprang unwittingly into his mind, and the immediate surge of desire made him leap off the bed and away from her. He backed into the wall as she raised her knees and parted her thighs.

Her other hand was cupping her left breast, the bud of her nipple raising the cloth between her fingers. Her mouth fell open in a satisfied sigh as her right hand began to rise and fall in a rhythm between her legs. He couldn't look away. He was enraptured. She began raising her hips against her own thrusting hand. She was massaging her nipple between her fingers, biting her lip, tossing her head. _I have to touch her. _

He lurched forward, not entirely knowing what he was doing, and then-

"Oh, Rory…"

Ice cold. He froze, feeling as though she had thrown a bucket of water over him.

He heard the echoes of dark laughter inside his head, and could not stay in the room with her any longer.

In the hallway, he leant against the metal panelled wall, his eyes screwed shut.

After a few moments, he stood up, straightened his bow tie, and headed in the direction of the console room.

_I need to get out of here. We've been stuck for too long._

In the console room of his TARDIS he felt as though he returned to himself. This was where things were simple. He was her Time Lord, she was his TARDIS.

"OK sexy, let's go see the stars."

He slammed a lever down, and relaxed at the familiar noise of her taking off.

* * *

A/N Told you he gets restless. I'm thinking a nice bit of mortal peril will help the two of them clear their heads.


	8. Ch 8 - The Storm in the Heart of the Sun

A/N Sorry to keep you all waiting, here's an extra long chapter to make up for it!

**All characters owned by the BBC**

_In the console room of his TARDIS he felt as though he returned to himself. This was where things were simple. He was her Time Lord, she was his TARDIS._

_"OK sexy, let's go see the stars." He slammed a lever down, and relaxed at the familiar noise of her taking off._

* * *

Amy was warm. She was warm and cosy and safe and she was never going to move ever again. Outside this bed was the world, and it was cold and dark and confusing. The bed made her happy. In this seemingly unending battle of hearts, could she not just choose the bed instead?

Her stomach was not on board with this idea.

She sighed. Oh well, at least she could take part of the bed with her.

Amy emerged at the top of the staircase in the console room, red head poking from a cocoon of duvet.

"Good morning!" Came the Doctor's unacceptably cheerful voice.

"There's nothing good about it until bacon's involved." She snapped back.

"Ooh, bacon. Don't know if I can do that." He stepped out from behind the console, scratching his flop haired head in mock thoughtfulness.

"Can you settle for croissants Miss Pond?"

The title, and all it implied, hung awkwardly in the air between them.

"What are you talking about?" She finally grumbled, breaking the silence.

The Doctor clapped his hands together bracingly, and marched towards the doors of the TARDIS.

"Mademoiselle," he murmered in a low voice as he passed directly by her ear "Bienvenue…" He swung the doors open theatrically "à Paris!"

Amy's eyes widened as the sun streamed into the TARDIS through the gaping double doors. Before her was a long cobbled road, running alongside a wide coursing river, framed by low stone walls and interrupted by elaborate bridges. Tall, beautiful architecture rose all around them, and rising higher than it all…

"The Eiffel Tower!" she gasped.

The Doctor beamed at her, and reached out his hand.

"Suivre moi, Pond."

...

They were sat at a little circular table outside a café. She was drinking a café latte and finishing off a pain au chocolat. The Doctor was drinking a hot chocolate with whipped cream.

"I can't believe the TARDIS had such chic clothes in the closet." Amy mused, watching Parisians pass and feeling quite at home in her new outfit. She turned her gaze on the Doctor, who was, as always, in his tweed jacket and bowtie.

"Couldn't she have provided you with anything to wear?"

He gave her a warning look. "Bowties are cool".

She giggled and took a sip of her deliciously creamy coffee.

The Doctor smiled and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long limbs under the table. His knee touched hers, and she jumped in surprise at the unexpected contact.

"Sorry, Pond." He yawned. He did not move his legs. He stretched out his arms, leaning his head back a little. As he did so, his shirt rode up, revealing a slither of stomach. She found herself staring at the trail of hair disappearing into his trousers…

"Where shall we visit next then?" He asked, snapping her out of her trance.

She tore her eyes away from him to look out at the street.

"Um, OK, we've done the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. How about the Louvre?"

"The Louvre! Perfect choice. Used to be a Palace of course but then turned into a museum after Louis XIV moved to Versaille in 1682." His eyes lost their focus, and he expression grew distant. "Been to Versaille myself a few times, met some quite wonderful people…"

A car horn beeped and he seemed to snap back to the present.

"Most of them turned out to be clockwork but nobody's perfect. Come on then!" He lept to his feet and gave her his most winning smile. "To the Louvre!"

...

He ran around the corner, the smoking reckage of elaborate pillars and doors unnoticed in his haste.

_Where is she where is she where is she where is she AMELIA!_

Past the smoldering rags that were once a timeless masterpiece, past a group of Japanese tourists who were huddled in a corner.

"Amy!" He shouted, his voice bellowing through the corridor. "AMY!"

She was not where he had left her, she was not in the café, she was not by the headless winged statue she had admired at the top of the stairs.

He galloped from floor to floor, panic giving him reckless energy. Why were there always aliens? Did the TARDIS purposefully take them to this time in Paris history? Or had there always been Slitheen in charge of the Louvre?

_Not any more at least. _

But he had left her alone, why had he done that?

_I though she would be safer._

"Amelia Pond!" He roared, his voice ricocheting off mirrors and windows.

**Really Doctor, you need not cause such a disturbance. I have Amy, safe.**

He spun on the spot, searching for the source of the voice.

**You cannot see me, I am broadcasting my voice into your mind using your telepathic connection to the TARDIS.**

He recognised that voice.

"Soloquan! What have you done with Amy? Where have you taken her?"

**I am on my family's space ship. You must know I am from a very powerful family, Doctor. **

He was already running in the direction of his TARDIS.

**Yes, come and get her, Doctor. Save the day.**

"You've made a huge mistake taking someone I love, Soloquan." He growled as he ran.

**We shall see. Perhaps in fact, you are the one making the mistake.**

"How so?" He asked the air as he flung open the door of the TARDIS and charged inside. Maybe if he could keep Soloquan talking, he could keep his attention away from Amy.

**Perhaps I shall be the one who claims victory. And the prize is oh so sweet Doctor. As I'm sure you've noticed.**

"Don't you touch her!" He spat, frantically starting the TARDIS engines. _Come on old girl, take me to her._

**The Oncoming Storm, the Lonely God, the Fire at the Heart of the Sun. All these things I have heard of you. Let's see if you can save this one unimportant little girl.**

At the words "little girl" an image of little Amelia Pond flashed into his mind. The memory of him asking "Do I scare you?" and her scrunching up her face indignantly and saying "No!".

"Amelia Pond is the most important girl you've ever laid eyes on." He proclaimed fiercely, and with those words the TARDIS's engines stopped abruptly. His mouth stretched into menacing smile.

**Come and find us Doctor.**

When he first charged from the TARDIS he was met with a ringing silence and a blinding darkness. The ship seemed empty. But she was on here somewhere.

He was walking down a seemingly endless series of metal hallways.

_Where are you?_

**_Doctor, follow my voice!_**

He stopped short. That had not been Soloquan. It was softer and warmer. And Scottish.

She was using Soloquan's signal to communicate with him.

_Oh Pond, you are good._

**_Thank you. You're getting warmer._**

He followed the sound of her thoughts, down hallway after hallway, until he reached a forbidding metal door.

**_You've found me!_**

He kicked the door with enough force that it burst open. A blue figure stood in the middle of the room. A redhead knelt in the corner, her arms obviously bound behind her.

**"Doctor!" **Soloquan thundered, clearly furious he had managed to find them, his anger exploding verbally and mentally.

"Soloquan." The Doctor greeted him calmly. "You're amazing plan appears to have backfired."

Soloquan smiled mockingly, clearly thinking the Doctor was foolish in his confidence. "Then by all means, thwart me."

"With pleasure." He raised his hand, the sonic screwdriver clasped in it.

_Close your mind off Amy. _

He felt her thoughts disappear from his mind. He closed off his own just in time, pressing his thumb down on the screwdriver, so that it emitted a high pitched and unbearable noise. Even to the Doctor and Amy, who were prepared, it caused considerable pain. To Soloquan, who's mind had been wide open, it was lethal.

His body crumpled to the floor.

The Doctor let his arm fall to his side, sonic screwdriver pointing to the floor. They looked at each other across the room, the fiery redhead and the floppy haired Doctor. Then Amy burst into tears.

The Doctor flew across the room, vaulted over the blue mass on the floor, and was crouching at her side in an instant.

"Amy, it's OK, you're OK, I've got you." He used his sonic screwdriver to undo her bindings.

As soon as her arms were lose, her hand lashed out and struck him around the face. The blow threw him to the floor, and as he struggled to regain composure, she clambered to her feet.

He looked up at her, towering above him, and found himself a little afraid.

"Don't you ever," her voice was shaking "leave me on my own like that again."

"I-I'm sorry Amy, I shouldn't have put you in such danger, I thought you would be safe!"

"Safe!" She took a step towards him, clenching her fists. Her red hair fell in front of her face.

"You're as bad as him." She gestured towards the blue figure on the floor. "I am not some little girl you need to keep safe. How many times have we been in danger together? I can take care of myself!"

"Take care of yourself?" The Doctor exclaimed, throwing aside his apologetic manner. "I left you alone for five minutes and you managed to get kidnapped."

He struggled to his feet, and squared his shoulders. "You are a _liability_." He jabbed her with his finger to emphasise the last word. Amy's mouth fell open in indignation.

"A liability? Where would you be without me? How many people would you have killed if I hadn't been there to stop you? What kind of _monster_ would you have let yourself become?"

She leaned in towards him, eyes piercing.

"You need me, Doctor."

His green eyes frantically scanned her face, his teeth gritted, his brow furrowed. In the empty room the only noise was their breathing coming fast and hard.

Suddenly, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and jerked him towards her, slamming her mouth into his. He grunted as their lips met, and then he was devouring her. He clamped his hands onto her hips in order to grip her closer to him.

They opened their mouths to each other, hot breath mingling, tongues exploring. Amy caught his bottom lips between her teeth and pulled, triggering a rumbling growl from his throat. She longed to feel his hands on her breasts again, and as soon as the thought was present in her mind, his hands were creeping up her torso. They fluttered teasingly underneath the curve of her breasts; their light caresses tantalising her unbearably. She broke their kiss and tugged at his shoulders, but he would not be hurried.

He began kissing along her jaw and down her neck. She let out a breathy moan, and as she did so she felt him respond, felt his hardness press against her abdomen. Immediately she ground her hips into his.

_That hurried him up alright_.

She thought she heard a low chuckle before his hands moved to surround the mounds of her breasts, moulding them in his warm palms. It only made her hungrier, and as his fingers found her nipples through the fabric of her shirt, she felt her knees start to weaken. _Keep standing. _She ordered her quivering legs. But his touch was so good. His fingers tweeking and flicking sent shivers of pleasure through her body. She tried to concentrate on staying upright but was finding it hard to focus with his fingers at her chest and his hardness against her belly.

_Come on. _

At this, his hands left her chest, hooked behind her knees and hoisted her bodily onto him, legs around his waist, groins pressed together. His arms wrapped around her back, fixing her to him. Then he was walking them both towards the door. With a shiver of mischief, she snaked her hand between where their bodies met, and rubbed it in one smooth stroke up the bulge in his trousers. He stopped walking abruptly, a shudder racking his body.

"Ohh Amy," He gave her a look of warning that was loaded with longing.

She clasped her hands at the back of his neck and brought their mouths together again, ravenous. He moaned into her lips before parting them with his tongue.

As they moved through the corridors towards the TARDIS, their hunger for each other grew with every straying hand, every panting kiss.

They came across the blue box almost by accident, too absorbed in each other. The Doctor pushed her up against the wooden doors, grinding his hips against her, as she dragged his jacket off his shoulders.

He snapped his fingers and they staggered inside. She threw his jacket on the floor, he wriggled out of his braces. Eyes, foggy with lust, never leaving the face of the other, their hands gaining the momentum that his footsteps lost. He managed to make it to the console, resting her weight on it before grasping her knees and thrusting her legs apart.

"No," she gasped, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He looked at her dazedly, his brain working slower than usual. "What's wrong?"

Her hand glided down his chest, over his stomach, to the lining of his trousers.

"It's my turn" She told him huskily, and she pulled down the zipper.

* * *

A/N She's no little girl, she's a full bodied woman, and she's about to leave the Doctor in no doubt about that.


	9. Ch 9 - It's Getting Hot in Here

__A/N Here's a chapter of pure lemon pie to reward all of you who have made it this far.

**All characters belong to the BBC**

_No," she gasped, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He looked at her dazedly, his brain working slower than usual. "What's wrong?"_

_Her hand glided down his chest, over his stomach, to the lining of his trousers._

_"It's my turn" She told him huskily, and she pulled down the zipper._

* * *

They were on the glass floor of the console room, the Doctor on his back, his red headed companion pinning him down as they kissed hungrily. Their bare chests slid over each other as they enjoyed, for the first time, the feeling of bare skin on skin. His hands were in her hair, gripping it in his fists, as though he couldn't kiss her deeply enough.

After a while, she broke the kiss and gently released her hair from his grasp.

This man.

She looked down at his boyish face with its old old eyes. This man, this Doctor, was hers. He would protect her whilst giving her the freedom to spread her wings. He understood she was too wild to be tamed. With a wicked glint in her eye, she began to ease her way down his body, planting open-mouthed kisses on his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, his hipbone…

When she got to the lining of his underwear she pulled at it with her teeth, letting it snap back against his skin. He flinched and his hips bucked against her slightly.

"Amy, you don't have to-"

She shot him a warning look, at which he clamped his lips together obediently, before raising his pelvis so she could remove his trousers. She threw them aside, and ran her hands up his bare chest, leaning in to his crotch. She heard his breath catch in his throat as she wrapped her lips around his head, her saliva soaking through the fabric of his boxers.

When she knew he couldn't stand it any longer, she whipped down his boxers, letting him spring free.

The Doctor watched her, poised over him like a jungle cat, and the hungry expression on her face as she saw all of him for the first time turned him on more than anything he had ever seen.

"Amy, please-" he started to beg, but she cut him off, licking him in one smooth movement from base to tip.

It was such a surprise for him that he ended up finishing his sentence with a groan of pleasure. For the next few minutes, while her mouth encased him, he lost himself completely in the wet warmth of her, her gentle teeth, and her strong tongue. His hands were itching to clasp her head, to thrust against her, but he buried them in his own hair, twisting it in his fists. He closed his eyes, lost in sensation.

She looked up at him, his self-control gone, his head thrown to one side as his muscles clenched with every movement of her head. She felt like a goddess. He was powerless before her. She felt him twitch beneath her, shudders rippling up his body.

Suddenly he was gripping her upper arms. She released him and looked up at his face. His eyes were wild, his hair chaotic, his lips parted. He dragged her up his body and kissed her firmly, slowly and deeply. Then his hands were dragging her trousers off, she tugged swiftly at her underwear, and next thing they knew they were both naked.

Flushed with triumph and excitement, they both let their eyes feast on each other. This sight they had both dreamed of but never dreamed might become reality. He kissed her again, and as his hands found her breasts she whimpered into his mouth. She was aching for him, each tweak of her nipples building the hunger between her legs. She wriggled her hips down towards his and felt him, still wet from her saliva, standing ready at her entrance. She froze, enjoying the tantalising feeling of him waiting for her.

One of his hands slid down her side, between her legs, and then his fingers were parting her folds. She pulled away from his kiss to gasp with the pleasure of it. He rubbed his finger over her clit, triggering spasms of deliciousness with every movement. Her breathing became heavier, her hips moving in time with his fingers, her wetness rubbing against his head.

"Tell me how it feels," He breathed.

She gave a shuddering gasp, unsure if she could verbalise any of her thoughts right now.

"Oh Doctor…" she managed.

His fingers stilled, and he turned his head to bite her earlobe. She moaned in protest and tried to move herself against his fingers, but he stilled her hips with his other hand.

"Tell me."

He took up the rhythm with renewed energy, causing her to suck her breath in.

"Feels so good…your fingers on me…makes me so wet….I _want _you!"

She forced her hips back onto him, claiming the situation as her own. She pushed her wet folds around the hard length of him, down and down. He slid up into her, filling her, satisfying her hunger and yet creating a need for more. His animalistic groan rumbled in her ear as she took all of him. His fingers stilled, as though he had forgotten how to do two things at once. Then, as she began to rock up and down, his fingers were given new life, and he toyed with her clit mercilessly, giving her everything she needed in that moment.

She had never felt more complete. It was as though she had been missing something, but did not realise it until that void had been filled.

She wanted more, she wanted MORE.

"Harder!"

He grasped her hips and thrust up into her, his eyes squeezed shut, biting his lip. They rocked against each other, gasping and groaning. With each thrust she climbed the wave of her orgasm. The pressure was building, the promise of release just out of reach.

She leant back, her hands on his knees, pushing him even deeper. He thrust again, hitting the spot deep inside her, and she shuddered, her climax breaking over her. He carried on, riding the wave with her, and at the sight of her mouth open, her head thrown back, her hair pouring in a fiery cascade over the full peaks of her breasts, he was overcome. He sat up, clutching her to him, and let out a strangled roar, harmonising with her quivering sighs. Their thrusts slowed, their muscles twitching and relaxing as the wave dissipated, leaving them panting and sweaty in each other's arms.

* * *

A/N Ooh la la. Finally.


	10. Ch 10 - Morning Sunlight

A/N Sorry I've kept you all waiting, I've been frightfully busy. This chapter does squat to advance the storyline, it's just a nice bit of lemony fluff to tide you over.

**All characters belong to the BBC**

_He sat up, clutching her to him, and let out a strangled roar, harmonising with her quivering sighs. Their thrusts slowed, their muscles twitching and relaxing as the wave dissipated, leaving them panting and sweaty in each other's arms._

* * *

Amy's consciousness swam back from the murky depths of sleep, and she stretched her bare legs groggily. She felt tired and satisfied, and was reminded of the post-swim feeling she used to get as a child, curled up in a blanket, limbs aching from exertion. She snuggled into the mattress and smiled. She did not expect the gentle nudge on the tip of her nose.

She squeaked in surprise and her eyes snapped open. The doctor's face was inches from her own, his eyes creased in a boyish grin.

"Good morning." he said.

She giggled and rubbed her eyes.

"What was that for?"

He bobbed his head towards hers, again nudging her nose with his.

"It's how cats show affection." He explained.

"I do feel like a satisfied feline right now, so I suppose it's appropriate." She reached her arms over her head and stretched fully, her mouth open in a monstrous yawn. She felt cool air on her bare breasts as the blanket slipped off them. She heard a deep rumble of appreciation. Leaving her arms resting over her head, she smiled at him.

"See something you like?"

"I see a couple of things I like."

He ran a warm hand across her belly and up her ribs, cupping her left breast. At the contact she felt a tingle between her legs, and a fizzle of anticipation in her gut. She slid her left knee up towards him under the blanket, and gently brushed him with it. He was already firm.

"I can tell." She smiled, feeling a little glow of pride at the effect she had on him.

He leaned over her, and kissed her soft lips tenderly, his other hand gliding over to mirror the first. As the kiss deepened, his hands began to mould her, and she slipped her fingers into his dark brown hair.

He hoisted himself over her, knees either side of her thighs, hardness pressed into her belly. She began to inch her spare hand towards where their bodies met, intending to bring him the same satisfaction as he was bringing her with his ministrations. As soon as he detected her movement, he simultaneously ran his teeth over her swollen bottom lip, and flicked both her nipples with his thumbs. The timing caused a shot of pleasure to streak down to her crotch, making her instantly eager for him. She gasped against his mouth, and he pulled away to let her breath.

"You're evil." She panted.

"I'm not so bad." He replied, leaning down to plant a kiss on one of her tight peaks. He opened his mouth and licked it, the warm wetness bringing a new sensation.

His other hand now free, he trailed it down her stomach and stroked the inside of her thighs, causing her to strain them apart, begging him with her body. He dragged one finger up her seam, feeling her wet readiness, before slipping it inside her. She thrust her hips up to meet it, her hand clenching in his hair.

It wasn't enough, his tongue on her was making her desperate for him.

"I want _you._" She insisted, gripping his length.

He raised his head and looked into her eyes, his fringe falling over his face and making him look so much younger than he really was. He seemed to contemplate her, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement, before nodding.

He positioned his hips between her thighs, placing himself at her slick entrance. She relished the feeling of him pressed against her, the anticipation of him filling her, quenching her desire. He leaned down and kissed her again. She peeped her tongue between his lips, and as his mouth opened in response, he eased his hips forward, plunging into her in one smooth movement. She groaned, hips pushing against him, forcing him deeper. They had to break their kiss so they could groan together.

"Oh Amy" He murmered, eyes shut, brow furrowed.

"Doctor" She responded to him, anchoring herself to him with her hands on his shoulders.

They bucked and rolled against each other, thrusting and falling, muscles clenching, eyes squeezed shut, lost in sensation. He lowered his mouth to her nipples again, and the flicking of his tongue combined with his thrusting movements pushed her over the edge. Her walls twitched and tightened around him, shudders rippling exquisitely through her, and the sound of her gasping moaning sighs brought him along with her.

His hips stilled, her arms fell from him shoulders, his head dropped, their muscles relaxed.

He rolled over to rest next to her, one arm draped over her midriff, so she could feel his panting breath on her shoulder. She looked at his lovely flushed face, and they both smiled up into each other's shining eyes. She could feel the blood start to pump back into her limp legs.

She turned onto her side and rested her hand against his face. He kissed her palm in response.

"Good morning to you too."


	11. Ch 11 - In Their Element

A/N I watched Womb yesterday, gosh is that a strange film. There are some very raunchy scenes with Matt, but it's spoiled somewhat by the incest...

**All characters belong to the BBC**

_He rolled over to rest next to her, one arm draped over her midriff, so she could feel his panting breath on her shoulder. She looked at his lovely flushed face, and they both smiled up into each other's shining eyes. She could feel the blood start to pump back into her limp legs._

_She turned onto her side and rested her hand against his face. He kissed her palm in response._

_"Good morning to you too."_

* * *

"The Savoy Hotel, London, 1905!" The Doctor indicated the elaborate building with a sweep of his white-gloved hand. Amy looped her arm around his and squeezed with delight.

"This is fantastic! I've always wanted to stay here. But why 1905?"

"Because, my dear Amelia, this is the year American millionaire George A. Kessler floods the central courtyard for his Venetian-themed "Gondola Party". It really is a sight to behold, after dinner the birthday cake gets brought out on the back of a baby elephant." He laughed with child-like glee.

Ever since they had let their guard down around each other, and accepted how they felt, he had been shamelessly giddy with glee. Amy had to admit to herself that she felt as though she could finally relax. But she could not stop herself being reminded of Rory. When the Doctor had mentioned Venice she felt a guilty swoop in her stomach, but she kept smiling, and hoped he had not noticed.

"But we don't _have _to be there." He teased, lowering his voice and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She elbowed him in the ribs.

"If it's that much of a sight that the TARDIS actually brings us where you want to go," he made an indignant face "then I think we can contain ourselves long enough to see it."

They entered through the elaborately carved wooden front doors, and swept across the carpeted lobby. Amy felt very grand in her long Victorian dress, with a feathered hat perched on her head. The Doctor was in his element, dressed to the nines in a dapper suit, with a shiny ebony cane in one hand and a gorgeous redhead on his arm.

She felt herself rise to the occasion. They were an impressive pair.

A member of staff greeted them, bowing respectfully.

"Good evening sir and madam. How may help you?"

"We would like a room." The Doctor tapped his cane against his polished black shoe, obviously trying to act the impatient rich snob.

"Certainly sir, may I enquire whether sir has booked…?"

The Doctor whipped out the telepathic paper, only showing a glimpse of it before flipping it closed again with a sigh. The man looked dumb struck, and Amy raised her eyebrow at him loftily.

"Is there a problem?" She enquired in her best English lady voice.

"N-n-no your highnesses," He bowed even deeper than before. "Please, do forgive me for not recognizing you immediately-"

A sharp hissing noise interrupted, and an older man with a much smarter suit stepped into the group, subtly nudging the stuttering porter aside.

"I'm afraid your usual room is occupied, but may I offer your majesties the new Penthouse Suite? It has rather marvelous views."

The Doctor seemed to contemplate this, before bowing his head in acceptance. Suddenly they were being whisked off to a luxuriously equipped bar, with offers of complementary Champaign as their room was prepared. They lowered themselves onto a plush sofa, allowing the waiters to skitter feverishly about them for a few moments. Before long they were alone.

Amy fell back into the cushions.

"Oh my goodness, I can barely breath." She put a hand to her rock hard abdomen, where the edge of the corset she was wearing pressed painfully into her.

"You didn't have to wear the corset." The Doctor told her, but he looked sympathetic all the same.

"Yes I did, the dress wouldn't fit otherwise!"

"But it must be so painful." His eyebrows knitted together with worry. Then his gaze seemed to travel downwards.

"No concept of health and safety, these Victorians." He was staring as if without realizing at her breasts, which were bulging out of the top of the corset. Then he blinked and turned away, exhaling quietly.

Amy noticed he had moved his hands so they rested in his lap. She looked at him shrewdly.

"Your bowtie is crooked."

He raised his hands to fix it, as she knew he would, and she took her opportunity to pounce, sliding her hand over the lump between his legs. He let out a bark of surprised laughter and snapped his knees together, locking her hand in place.

"You little minx!"

She cocked an eyebrow daringly, and his eyes darkened.

"What happened to containing ourselves?"

She wiggled the fingers of the hand trapped against his groin and he let out a rumble of pleasure.

Their lips found each other, languorously opening and closing, tongues darting out, breath mingling. His legs relaxed and she was able to move her hand, stroking up and down his length, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. She felt his weight shift slightly and then the warmth of his hand against her cheek. He pulled her further into the kiss, stroked her jaw with his thumb, and then began tracing down the ligaments of her throat.

She pulled at the lining of his trousers and felt him peeping out of the top. She traced his head lightly with the tips of her fingers, feeling the soft skin tremble at her touch. He moaned into her mouth, and then in a sudden movement, he ripped the top of her corset open. She gasped in surprise and pulled away.

"What are you doing? This is a priceless antique!"

He gazed at her through lust-fogged eyes, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling. There was something almost predatory about him that made her heart beat faster and her insides twist with desire.

"Oh to hell with it." She hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him towards her, almost on top of her. Their kiss was hungry, animalistic, indecent.

He planted his hands on either side of her head and pushed himself up and away from her.

"Amy" His hair was wild, his eyes dazed. "Let's go upstairs."

"I'm fine here." She whined, sticking her bottom lip out sulkily. His eyes travelled to it and he swallowed.

"_You_ might be but if someone walks in we could be thrown out of the hotel."

_But don't they think we're married? _She didn't say it out loud. The truth was, she was the one that was married. She couldn't bring that cold hard truth into the lovely carefree warmth they were enjoying together. So she gave in and let him pull her from the sofa.

"We're not looking very presentable." She worried aloud.

The front of her dress was hanging open, her lipstick smeared. His trousers had a very noticeable protrusion, and his hair was a messy tangle. He had never looked so adorable.

"We'll have to run up the servant's stairs." He frowned.

"What if we're seen by the servants?"

He tugged on her hand, bringing her right up close, so their faces were inches from each other.

"Then there will be a _scandal!" _He whispered.

They shared another panting primal kiss, before the Doctor wrenched his mouth away from hers with a disgruntled growl.

"Move fast."

* * *

A/N For the Doctor's outfit, imagine the tux he wears in _Let's Kill Hitler, _and for Amy's, imagine the dress she wears in the hotel in _the Power of Three_


	12. Ch 12 - The Best Kind of Heat

A/N Sorry this took so long, I had a busy end of the year. Here's a lot of lemon to make up for it :)

**All characters belong to the BBC.**

_"What if we're seen by the servants?"_

_He tugged on her hand, bringing her right up close, so their faces were inches from each other._

_"Then there will be a scandal!" He whispered._

_They shared another panting primal kiss, before the Doctor wrenched his mouth away from hers with a disgruntled growl._

_"Move fast."_

* * *

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. Peeking out, she judged the right moment and then darted down the hallway, her raggedy doctor in tow. Through another door, down a corridor, under an archway, across a drawing room-

"Here"

The doctor tugged at her hand, and opened a hidden doorway behind a pillar, where some wooden spiral stairs led upwards. They stood quietly, listening past their heartbeats for the sound of footsteps.

"Clear" Amy decided, impatient for his lips to be on her bare skin again. She pulled him up after her. He rumbled his appreciation for the view and ran his palm over her backside through the thick fabric of her dress as they climbed, making her giggle. Then he let go of her hand, and she heard a rustling noise, before feeling a breeze on her legs and a hand slide up her calf muscle. She squeaked and he made a shushing noise.

"Don't shush me!"

"Do you want everyone to hear us?"

His hand travelled up to her thigh, then slid between her legs. She span around, pointing her finger at him threateningly.

"Now look here." She told him in a fake bossy British accent. "This just won't do, I am royalty and you must not manhandle me without my permission."

He stepped up to her height, closing the distance between them in one movement. He had quite a dark, dangerous look in his eyes and she was reminded of the first time he had touched her in the console room of the TARDIS. She had teased him and he had shown her what he was really capable of. Now he hovered directly in front of her, his lips millimeters from hers but not touching.

"Your highness,"

He addressed her in a low voice. Her heart was racing, and as she looked into his dark eyes her lips parted in anticipation. He tilted his head to the side, eyes scanning her face. Then his upper lip curled, exposing his gritted teeth, and a menacing growl rolled from his throat. The primal noise triggered in her mind a mental image of his teeth dragging across her flesh.

She shivered and leaned forward, hoping to realize the vision, but he darted past her and further up the stairs.

"Come back!" Her voice came out as a whimper. He looked back at her, a somewhat evil smile playing on his lips, and raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"Come back! I give you permission!" But he was climbing away from her, his long legs making small work of the steep steps. She scrambled after him, but he was disappearing from her view. She climbed faster, but he was gone.

"Doctor!" She hissed, alone in the dark staircase. She saw a door open to her left, and went through. She came out in a deserted hallway, lined with doors.

_Great, how am I supposed to find him now?_

She couldn't ask anyone, not with her dress in the state it was.

_The man at reception said we had the Penthouse suite. I bet that's on the top floor._

She turned on her heel, heading back to the staircase.

10 minutes later she was reaching the top of the staircase, completely out of breath and more than completely out of patience. She went through the grandest door she had seen so far, and came out in a sumptuous living space, with plush armchairs and vibrant vases of flowers.

She only got a glimpse of it, however, for next thing she knew she was pushed firmly against the closed door.

"You took your time."

Then his mouth was on hers. She buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss, mouths prizing open, hot breath mingling, tongues darting forwards. He hiked up her long dress and ran his hands up the outside of her thighs.

_This dress is far more trouble than it's worth._

He seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and they spent the next few moments wrestling her out of it. Before long she was standing in her shift, with the dress in a ripped heap at their feet.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against him, sliding his hands firmly over her rear and then grazing his fingers between her legs. As they kissed fiercely she felt her insides tighten and her heart race in anticipation. Their tongues pushed roughly against each other, and he thrust his deeper into her mouth. She clamped her teeth around it and sucked on it hard, pulling a deep moan from him.

They burst apart, panting breathlessly, heads swimming, but he wasn't done with her yet. Eyes dark and hair wild, he turned her roughly to face the door, and hitched up her shift. He circled one hand around her front, slipping it under her knickers and between her legs, finding the cluster of nerve endings that were already singing. His other hand came from behind, tugging the fabric of her underwear out of the way before plunging a finger into her warm wetness.

The two sensations at once, with so little warning, made her gasp and fall forward into the door, so that she found herself holding onto its ornate wooden carvings for dear life as he worked her mercilessly. Sparks and waves tore through her, ricocheting under her skin, making her breathe come hard and fast. He added another finger but before long fingers weren't enough.

"Doctor I want you, now!" She whimpered.

His fingers slid away, and then she felt his hardness rub hesitantly at her entrance. Unable to bear it any longer, she pushed back desperately against him with a whine of longing. In response he drove himself into her, filling the aching void, and then they were pushing and bucking against each other. His other hand rubbed in time as he thrust his hips up into her, and she pressed back against him, the tension in her building to ecstatic heights.

"Harder!" She gasped, throwing her head back.

He moved his hands to her hips, holding her in place as he picked up the rhythm.

"Oh, Amy…" He growled, his voice straining.

The sound of his voice, his thrusting movements, the reckless lust he was showing for her, met every need and she reached the summit of her pleasure.

"Yes, Doctor, now!"

She ground herself against him and let herself go, the waves crashing through her in just the right way. He let out a strangled groan, and bent over her, biting her shoulder in an attempt to retain some dignity.

His thrusts slowed, and they were left leaning against the door, sweaty and quivering.

* * *

A/N Right, that's enough lemony goodness for now I think, time for some plot progression. Expect the next chapter soon!


	13. Ch 13 - Smoke on the Water

A/N The historical dates and events in this chapter are for the most part, completely true!

**Doctor Who, the TARDIS, Amelia Pond, and Rory Williams all belong to the BBC.**

_She ground herself against him and let herself go, the waves crashing through her in just the right way. He let out a strangled groan, and bent over her, biting her shoulder in an attempt to retain some dignity._

_His thrusts slowed, and they were left leaning against the door, sweaty and quivering._

* * *

She stood in front of the grand mirror in their room, but she couldn't really see it. She was gripping the mahogany table, face contorted, trying to breath through the compressing pain of being tied into her second corset of the day.

The maid stood behind her, the sounds of her breathing audible as she strained to tie the laces. One final pull, and she was in. She looked at herself, hot and flustered, but incredibly curvy. She would not usually go through this kind of torment, if it were not for the jaw dropping dress that had been brought up to her. The train trailed to the floor ever so gracefully, and the lace neckline swooped ever so low on her shoulders, it would probably take more effort to stop the Doctor from ripping it off her immediately than it would getting herself into the thing.

Sure enough, when she swept down the stairs and into the hallway to meet him, his gaze met hers and his eyes widened.

"Amy…!" He gasped. She couldn't suppress her giggle, and felt a little glow of pride that she could still impress him.

Fixing a straight expression on her face, she offered him a gloved hand, and he swept off his top hat and bent gracefully to kiss it. He looked tall dark and dashing, his tux fitting him perfectly to emphasise his slim waist and his long legs.

"Shall we?" He asked, gesturing in the direction of the sounds of merriment that were issuing from the entrance to the courtyard.

"Why, certainly." She hooked her arm in his and they glided forward into their evening.

She gasped herself when she saw the courtyard. It had been flooded with water so deep there was a larger than life gondola floating heavily in it, so big it looked as though it could comfortably seat at least two dozen diners. The walls were no longer visible, instead, framing the water, there was theatre scenery depicting Rennaissance Venice, so realistic it was easy to be fooled that they had been taken there by the TARDIS itself.

Sparkling lights from hundreds of candles flickered and reflected in the water. The staff were all costumed, as were the guests, and as Amy and the Doctor walked through the archway they too were presented with Venetian masks. Amy took hers wordlessly, still absorbed in the beautiful sight before her.

The Doctor smiled to himself at the expression of awe on her face. He imagined she was now feeling what he felt every time he lost himself in her eyes.

"The Lord and Lady of Aberdeen, John Smith and Amelia Pond." Announced a loud voice from the entrance.

Amy looked up at the Doctor, her eyes shining with excitement.

"This is fantastic!"

He laughed, happiness surging through him to see the joy on her face.

"Come on then let's find our seats!"

He led them down the stairs to a smaller gondola that was waiting for them. They clambered in, and were taken across the water. Soon they were climbing onto the magnificent vessel in the center of the flooded courtyard. They were shown to two ornate chairs at the long table, where they sat down and looked around them.

The Doctor was sat next to George Kessler himself, and they became immediately absorbed in conversation with each other. Amy could not stop turning her head, taking in all the gorgeous costumes and decorations.

They were presented with tall crystal flutes of champagne, which fizzed delightfully on her tongue. She hadn't had champagne since her wedding day…

The fog of memory that held her for a few moments was broken by the feeling of a warm hand placed tenderly on the small of her back. She turned her head and smiled at the Doctor, not wanting to place any of her troubles at his door. She did not want to spoil this. And anyway, what she was remembering wasn't to happen for another hundred years.

More guests were arriving, each announced individually. Famous actress Sarah Bernhardt, resplendent in a plumed hat, handsome singer Enrico Caruso, and finally…

"Professor Ronald Ross and his wife Rosa Bessie Ross."

The chatter got a little more expectant, and heads turned to see the new arrivals.

"Discoverer of the cause of malaria you know." She heard Kessler tell the Doctor. "Winner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine. His wife is simply marvellous."

Amy turned herself to see this professor and his apparently marvellous wife. She stood in the arched entry; dark hair curled and tucked neatly, eyes sparkling even through her mask.

The man next to her wasn't wearing a mask. He was older and slightly chubby, with an unflattering moustache. But there was no mistaking him.

It was Rory.

* * *

N/A :O

The next chapter, believe it or not, is already written! Review to get it faster!


	14. Ch 14 - The One Who Was Burned

A/N Thanks for all your lovely reviews guys! Carrying on from the last, the historical events in this chapter are mostly true!

**Doctor Who, the TARDIS, Amelia Pond and Rory Williams all belong to the BBC**

_Amy turned herself to see this professor and his apparently marvelous wife. She stood in the arched entry; dark hair curled and tucked neatly, eyes sparkling even through her mask._

_The man next to her wasn't wearing a mask. He was older and slightly chubby, with an unflattering moustache. But there was no mistaking him._

_It was Rory._

* * *

Everything slowed. Her surroundings dimmed. The air was stuck in her lungs. She stared at his face, so changed, but with the same eyes. How many times had she thought about those eyes since he had walked away from her?

She was suddenly horrified that he might see her, and quickly turned back to her plate.

She looked to her right, to her Doctor. He was just in the act of turning to see the new guests himself, but caught her eye and frowned. His lips formed her name. His hand was at her cheek, and she realized her mouth was open. She closed it and blinked. The world seemed to refocus.

"Amy what's wrong?" His forehead was creased with worry and confusion.

"Nothing." She swallowed and smiled, but she couldn't seem to make the smile reach her eyes. His hand dropped and he looked around.

She could see on his face the moment he saw Professor Ronald Ross, the moment he recognized his old companion. Her husband.

His expression turned to stone.

He seemed to process the new information, before gathering his resolve and turning back to her.

"It's OK, do you hear me? We're fine." He glanced back towards the entrance, and she saw a frown flicker briefly between his eyebrows. Are we fine?

_Yes…_

She took a deep breath and rallied her nerve.

_Yes, we're fine._

Professor and Mrs Ross were by that time climbing onto the gondola, greeting other guests, taking glasses of champagne. Any minute now…

She could not tear her eyes from his face, but she could sense her Doctor in the seat next to her, poised like a jungle cat. Fight or flight.

Rory saw her. His gaze glided past as he scanned the table, then his expression of light joviality faded from his face. He turned back to his wife, briefly clasped her hand, and then began moving towards where Amy sat.

She felt the Doctor rise from his seat. She was about to reach out and stop him, thinking he was going to prevent Rory from coming over, but before she could he had slid behind her and further down the table to sit next to Sir Thomas Dewar. She felt as though her last defense had been stripped from her. She would have to face this man. Face what she had done to him.

"Hello Amy." His voice was deeper and slightly gravelly.

He sat down in the Doctor's vacated chair. She couldn't help admiring him for holding her gaze. She found herself studying his face. How old was he? 45? 50? His hair was not greying but it had an unnaturally dark tint to it that looked slightly chemical.

"Hi Rory." She didn't know what to do with her hands. She tucked a ginger curl behind her ear. "Or should I say Professor?" She tried to smile at him, but he remained serious.

"I'm the professor of tropical medicine at Liverpool University College." He informed her tonelessly.

"And the discoverer of malaria I hear."

"I simply proved that malaria is spread by mosquitos." He corrected dismissively.

Amy swallowed before steeling herself to ask what she really wanted to know.

"You got married?" She glanced over at the dark haired woman he had come in with.

"Yes, sixteen years ago." She looked back at his blank face. "We have four children."

She let out a little choking noise and managed to pass it off as laughter.

"Well you got what you wanted then. A family and a career-"

"He left me in 1875."

Amy stared at him, all pretenses gone.

"I-I'm sure he didn't mean to, the TARDIS must have-"

"I waited for you to come back, I thought surely you would realize…" For the first time some emotion crossed his face, his eyebrows collapsing slightly before he reigned himself in again. "But I soon faced reality. I made a life for myself, I studied medicine in London, I joined the Indian Medical Service. I fell in love."

He looked over at his wife and his expression softened. Seeing this caused a flurry of confusion in Amy's chest.

"It's not the same as... as us. Victorian life is very traditional. But she's faithful and honest." This pronouncement tipped her pain into anger.

"Well at least now you have the subservient housewife you always wanted." She hissed.

He gave her a look that made her see how much he had aged.

"Amy, I'm past all this. I'm 55. It's been 30 years since I walked out of the TARDIS." She realized he had spent more of his life without her than with her.

"So you're happy are you?"

"In a way." He stared down at his empty glass, spinning the stem between his fingers.

"I wouldn't have chosen this for myself but the choice wasn't mine to make."

It was at this point that Kessler interrupted their conversation to congratulate Rory on his Nobel Prize.

Amy lent back in her chair and let out her breath. She noticed that the professor's wife, Rosa, was sat next to the Doctor, who kept glancing over at her distractedly. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

The courses were brought out and sailed over to them one by one. Amy could only sample each dish, partly due to her corset seriously restricting her food intake, and partly because of Rory's presence at her side. After the seemingly never-ending stream of food, Enrico Caruso stood up from his seat at the table and sang a series of heart melting melodies. Amy tried to lose herself in the music.

Their dinner reached it's climax when a five foot birthday cake was brought out on the back of a baby elephant.

"My dearest friends and respected colleagues." Kessler boomed, raising his glass. "What a splendid evening this has been. And it need not end here! Let us proceed to the Ballroom."

The guests started singing _For He's A Jolly Good Fellow _as the gondola was steered to the edge of the courtyard, allowing them to dismount. When it came her turn to climb ashore, Rory held out his hand, and she felt she had no choice but to take it. He gave her a look that was full of meaning, before moving away with everyone to the ballroom, leaving her at the waters edge.

She felt dazed, and then sensed someone behind her.

"Amy."

He took her hand in his, and led her after the crowd. She followed him wordlessly, and they spent the evening in each other's arms, swaying to the music played by a full orchestra. She tried to stop herself from looking over at the professor and his wife, tried to concentrate on the safety that was the Doctor's arms around her waist.

"Come on" He whispered in her ear after what felt like an eternity. He took her hand and led her away from the brightly lit room, to the dark staircase that would take them up to their bed.

As they reached the foot of them, Amy found herself wriggling her hand out of his. He turned towards her expectantly, his worried eyes shining in the dark.

"I think I need some fresh air."

He nodded.

Back in the courtyard, she stood on the steps and watched the lights reflected in the calm surface of the water. The staff were clearing away the chairs from the gondola. This should have been a wonderful evening.

"Amy?"

She looked around to see Rory stood quietly next to her, looking out over the scene before them. Trepidation and guilt filled her stomach.

"I apologize for interrupting your reflections." _He even sounds Victorian. _"But I need to make the situation perfectly clear to you." He turned to her, his eyes probing her face.

"I had no choice, but you still do. You can ask him to take you back to where you left me, in 1875. You can rewrite this. We can still be together. I can be your Rory again. Or," He paused, eyes watching her, "you can leave me. Again. With him."

She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She must not cry.

She formed an answer in her head, and turned to him.

But he was gone.

* * *

A/N Will Amy make her final choice? Will the Doctor be left again? Or will he travel with his true love happily ever after? Find out soon!

Keep the reviews coming, they keep me writing!


	15. Ch 15 - A Very Volatile Situation

A/N Some of you have been asking for more lemon, don't worry, there will be plenty to come I assure you. I ask you first for a little patience while these two sort some things out.

EDIT: It was pointed out to me that telephones weren't used regularly yet in 1905, so instead of using a phone to call for coffee, the Doctor asks a butler.

**All characters belong to the BBC.**

_"I had no choice, but you still do. You can ask him to take you back to where you left me, in 1875. You can rewrite this. We can still be together. I can be your Rory again. Or," He paused, eyes watching her, "you can leave me. Again. With him."_

_She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She must not cry._

_She formed an answer in her head, and turned to him._

_But he was gone._

* * *

"What do we do?!" She shouted at him.

The Doctor was striding up and down the shiny wooden floors of their penthouse bedroom, tux jacket in a forgotten heap on the floor, bow tie hanging lose around his neck.

"I don't know, Amelia!" He threw back at her, teeth clenched.

"How could you have got the date wrong? I mean, 1875? That's not even a little bit close!"

"Yes, thank you, I am aware of that!" He gesticulated at her wildly. "You didn't notice either!"

She gaped at him in indignation. "ME? I was a little bit preoccupied in case you'd forgotten!"

He stopped pacing, chest heaving, and looked at her, his expression softening. Then he shook his head, his fringe flopping in front of his eyes.

"You're right, I'm sorry." He sat down on a chaise long and rested his head in his hand.

Amy walked over to him and crouched at his feet. He watched her with a trace of wariness in his green eyes. She took one of his hands and looked up into his face.

"You know I've already chosen, don't you?"

He dropped his other hand to cover hers.

"I do now." He sounded profoundly relieved. She smiled at him, that he could still doubt where her heart lay.

"My Doctor." She said tenderly.

His eyes crinkled as he grinned dopily. He raised both hands and cupped her face. "My Amy."

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips softly against hers. She moved hers against his, and she felt his tongue gently brush against her mouth. She opened to him, and the kiss deepened. She slipped her hands up his strong arms to rest on his shoulders, and one of his hands slid up into her fiery curls, his nails gently grazing her scalp. She felt a clenching in the pit of her stomach and a stirring between her legs, and quickly pulled out of the kiss, vision slightly blurred.

"No, come on, we need to sort this out." She told him firmly.

He sighed. "Yes, of course, you're right."

He looked at her for a few long moments, lips parted, and she had to stand up and take a few steps back to stop herself from pulling him back into the kiss. He chuckled.

"I'm just going to stay seated for a little while." He placed his hands strategically in his lap and Amy felt a little rush of heat.

"Stop trying to distract me!" She clenched her eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to steer her thoughts away from that particular area of her Doctor. "I need a coffee, do they do coffee in 1905?"

"It's been available in Europe since the 17th century." She threw him a warning look. She wasn't in the mood for a history lesson.

His lap situation apparently resolved, he got to his feet and left the room to call their butler. Amy sat down on their huge bed and tried to compose herself.

_Now, this is going to be a civilized conversation. I am going to remain calm, and act like a mature responsible adult. We are going to discuss the options available to us and I am not going to raise my voice._

She took a deep breath and looked up to where the Doctor was standing with his hands in his pockets, watching her.

"Now," she put her hands in her lap and entwined her fingers. If he found her act of responsible adult amusing he did not let it show. "What are our options?"

He let out a breath.

"Well, mainly we… you… have to decide whether we are going to go back and get him."

She frowned thoughtfully. "I think we have to. It's our fault he's in the wrong time."

"Then we have to make a decision of when we're going to go and get him. He's made medical history, if we take him out at the wrong time…" The Doctor trailed off, eyebrows furrowed, and began pacing again.

"When did he win his nobel prize? Was it 1902?"

The Doctor nodded. "And he will be knighted in 1911."

Amy's draw dropped. "Knighted? _Really?_ He'll be _Sir _Rory?"

"Sir Ronald Ross." The Doctor corrected her with a pedantic finger wag.

Amy was struck with a horrible thought.

"Do you know when he dies?"

The Doctor stopped pacing and looked at her solemnly.

"1932"

Amy clutched her chest. He sat down next to her and rested a warm hand on her knee. He did not say anything. There was nothing to say.

After a while she took a steadying breath and gave him a weak smile.

"I'm OK." He did not smile back. He squeezed her knee and left her side.

"Now, clearly the most important part of his career are the actual discoveries he made which advanced medicine, namely his work on malaria. If we did pull him out it would have to be in 1902, after his discovery of how malaria is transmitted. I think we can allow him to collect his Nobel Prize, after all his hard work?" He looked to Amy, seeking approval.

"He told me he got married sixteen years ago." She said in a small voice. "What about his family?"

She was not looking at him, so did not see his expression.

"If he wants to return to the 21st century, he will have to leave them here."

Amy felt lost.

"But, 1902, that's only three years ago! He built a life here, we can't just tear him away from that. It has to be at the start or not at all." She raised her head, face set.

"Amy, if we do that he will never make those contributions to medicine. That's a fixed point in time."

"Time can be rewritten, you're always saying that!"

He gazed at her, expression unreadable.

"Please Doctor, I can't leave him here!"

There was a long silence. One of the candles flickered and died, causing the Doctor's face to be plunged into shadow. She heard him exhale.

"We can go back to right after we dropped him. I'll explain to him what's at risk, what he will never achieve if he leaves. He can make the decision."

"No," her hands were trembling but her voice was steady, "I'll explain. He needs to hear it from me."

* * *

A/N How will Amy find the words? What will Rory's decision be? Review!

(PS, before you find the answers to those questions you'll have to sit through some lemon pie, I do apologise)


	16. Ch 16 - Steaming Up The Windows

A/N Well I felt so bad for leaving you all hungry, so here's two servings in one day! This chapter is pure citrus fruit my dear readers, I do hope you enjoy it.

**All characters belong to the BBC**

_There was a long silence. One of the candles flickered and died, causing the Doctor's face to be plunged into shadow. She heard him exhale._

_"We can go back to right after we dropped him. I'll explain to him what's at risk, what he will never achieve if he leaves. He can make the decision."_

_"No," her hands were trembling but her voice was steady, "I'll explain. He needs to hear it from me."_

* * *

She heard the Doctor's voice filter in from the entrance to their room, a brief conversation followed by some clinking. She was halfway through undressing, and had to hop to the bedroom door, outer skirts trailing behind her.

"What was that?" She poked her head out.

The Doctor stood in a dressing gown, holding a tray of cups and a pot.

"Room service," he lifted the tray up slightly and gave her a mischievous grin. Her eyes narrowed.

"Why are you smiling like that?" He opened the door with his foot and strode past her, tray held out in front of him.

"Pond I have positively no idea what you mean." He placed the tray on the chaise long and poured some of the rich brown liquid from the pot into a cup. The smell filled the room and her mouth watered in anticipation.

He held it out for her, but as she came forward to take it he raised it just beyond her reach.

"Now, Pond, this isn't the Starbucks swill you're used to," she frowned indignantly at the slur on her favourite coffee house "This is coffee as it was originally intended. It is much stronger than you are accustomed to. Factor into the equation the lateness of the hour before you-"

With a little hop she intercepted the cup and took a large satisfying gulp.

"Ahhhhh," she sighed her coffee scented satisfaction into his amused face.

"Very well, you are a grown adult after all." She noticed again that mischievous glint in his eye. It made her feel slightly uneasy.

Hours later, and she had regretted her unthinking caffeine consumption. She was lying in their grand bed, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, muscles tense, energy singing through her limbs.

_Damn him._

She let her head flop to one side to glare at the Doctor's sleeping face. Come to think of it, she had rarely seen the Doctor actually sleeping. She let her eyes slide over his closed eyes, his angular jaw, his parted lips…

"Amelia that is very disconcerting." She jumped in surprise. The Doctor's face creased into a grin and his eyes opened.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I thought perhaps if I pretended to sleep it would help _you _to sleep."

"Well," she scoffed "that idea clearly didn't work. How about you tell me one of your long meandering irrelevant stories, _that _would send me off _no_ prob- AH NO STOP!"

His arms had flown across the little space between them and suddenly she was thrashing in fits of giggles as he tickled her mercilessly.

"Doctor, NO!" She laughed so loudly he had to stop to cover her mouth with his hand.

"Shh, Amy! You'll wake the other guests!" She stuck her tongue out and licked the palm of his hand, leaving as much saliva as she could in one strike. He let out a strangled yell and yanked his hand away, wiping it on the sheets.

"Blimey you're like a hyperactive child." But he was grinning. She sniggered and bit her lip. He traced the edges of her mouth with his finger.

"Don't bite that too much or there'll be none left for me." His hand moved from her lips to the side of her face, and then he was leaning in and kissing her. She lifted her chin and closed her eyes in enjoyment. After a while he pulled away, that mischievous spark back in his eye.

"I think I might have something up my sleeve that will tire you out."

...

She was lying face down on the bed, the air cool on her bare skin, her arms crossed underneath her chin.

"What are you doing over there?"

"Just fetching a couple of things." His voice came from the other side of the room, and her curiosity peaked. She wondered what he had planned that required such foresight as to fetch "things".

She felt the bed shift as he climbed back on, felt the mattress under her sink as he placed his knees on either side of her thighs, and rested his weight on the back of her legs.

"Now this might be a little cold."

She gasped in surprise as his hands met the skin of her back, cold and moist. They didn't take long to warm up however as he kneaded and massaged her muscles. With his strong fingers it felt divine.

She let go of the tension in her body and concentrated on the feel of his palms, his fingertips, his thumbs as they caressed and pressed, circled and squeezed. He worked her back, shoulders and arms, even her hands and fingers. Just when she didn't think she could be any more relaxed, se felt his chest against her back as he leaned over her and whispered in her ear.

"Keep your eyes closed."

She heard a squeak and felt the mattress rise as he climbed off. Before she could verbalise her protest, he was massaging her feet.

_Mmmmm yes please…_

He rubbed the arches with his thumbs, up her ankles, and began moulding her calves. When he got to her lower thighs she began to feel a slight tingle between her legs, and became deliciously aware of that fact that she was naked. He worked his way gradually up her thighs, thumbs getting closer to where they met, her pleasure and anticipation climbing with them.

He skimmed up to the mounds of her backside and began moulding them. The motion of his fingers and thumbs squeezing and pressing pulled her cheeks apart slightly, so that the cool air brushed places that were new to her, giving her a taste of an unknown pleasure.

Her mind reeled. Was this OK?

_If it feels like this it is._

Her body was so sensitive after the massage that her arousal, her need for him was amplified. His thumbs dipped to the place between her legs and dragged her lips apart, letting them also feel the cool air, the promise of what was to come. He slid one briefly inside her and she felt her heart skip a beat.

His other hand moved down between her legs, letting her feel its progress, until it came to the bud of nerves that was pressed into the bed. His fingertips began to brush softly against it, causing spasms of pleasure to course through her. She let out a little moan, and felt him hard against her thigh.

She raised her hips in their air slightly, wanting more, and the movement caused the scent of her arousal to fill the air. She heard and felt him emit a deep rumble of desire.

"Oh, Amy…"

He planted a kiss on her rear, and then, without warning, the rough flat of his tongue was licking a long stroke all the way up her. She gasped in surprise and delight. His hands clenched around her thighs, dragging her rear higher into the air, and then they were planted on her cheeks again, pulling them apart to grant him greater access as he pillaged her with his tongue and his fingers.

Before long she was panting, begging for him to end it. His tongue left but his fingers remained, stroking and rubbing.

"Doctor!" she whimpered. She placed her palms against the headboard, pushing back, pleading.

He ran his other hand over the soft, damp skin of her back, and then pushed her down so she was lying flat once more. She felt hands prizing her apart, felt him firm at her entrance, and then he was sliding up into her.

She let ut a strangled gasp, and then a mew of satisfaction as he began to rock inside her. She pushed her backside up to allow him better entrance. The angle of it hit undiscovered places inside her and she couldn't seem to stop herself from making those little noises. He slid his hands up her sides, her flesh singing at his hot touch, and tucked them underneath her, securely around her breasts. Then he rested his weight over her, so they were pressed against each other. Again they began to rock, him thrusting with his hips, moulding with his hands, her pushing against the headboard to meet his thrusts.

She could hear his faltering breath in her ear, harmonizing with her pants and moans.

"Mine." He growled.

"Yours" She whimpered. He buried his head in her shoulder and as his thrusts became more erratic, she felt the waves begin to break.

"Yes, yes Doctor!" He slammed into her, and the pleasure swept through her, sharp and smooth all at once, epitomizing all the pleasure and desire that had preceded it.

He shuddered and quaked behind her, on top of her, and their rocking slowed, their pants mingling in the air between them. He sat up and pulled her with him, so they were sat entwined in the middle of the sweaty heap of bedsheets.

He ran his hands down from her breasts over her stomach, down to her thighs.

"Wow" she breathed.

"Did I exhaust you?" He asked, sounding pretty exhausted himself.

She nodded, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. He tipped her chin up and kissed her tenderly. She reached up and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"Mine." She sighed.

"Yours." He agreed.

* * *

A/N Yummy! Review, you darlings, a chef loves feedback.


	17. Ch 17 - Walking on Hot Coals

A/N Thanks again for all the reviews guys! I hope you're sitting tight, the seas are about to get rough.

**All characters belong to the BBC.**

_"Wow" she breathed._

_"Did I exhaust you?" He asked, sounding pretty exhausted himself._

_She nodded, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. He tipped her chin up and kissed her tenderly. She reached up and ran a hand through his tousled hair._

_"Mine." She sighed._

_"Yours." He agreed._

* * *

Amy felt extremely boring in her usual clothes. Although she had to admit her internal organs were rejoicing at the lack of a corset.

She emerged from the TARDIS wardrobe, looking like herself once more. The Doctor glanced up from the console and actually bounded over to scoop her up in his arms.

"I missed you." he murmured into her shoulder.

She put her hands on his shoulders and held him at arms length, scanning him appraisingly. He was back in his canvas shirt, red bow tie and elbow padded jacket. Her Raggedy Doctor.

"I thought you liked me in a dress?"

"I do." He smiled warmly. "But this is my Amy." He stroked her cheek and she leant into his hand.

"Come on then." He took her hand and they braced themselves for what was ahead.

The engines heaved and moaned, and as the TARDIS materialized on the same street they had left Rory Williams. Amy tried to examine her expectations. Judging by the mood he had been in when he left. He would be cold and resentful. What would that evolve into? He thought they were just taking some space, looking towards a time when everything would be fixed and they would be happy. Then she had to take into account the fact that he was in a time he had not expected, desperately figuring out what to do. She exhaled, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

She became aware of silence, the engines having come to a halt. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see the Doctor. He had a grim expression on his face.

"This is isn't going to be easy." He told her quietly. She nodded. He placed a gentle hand under her chin and tilted it upwards. "Give me a shout if you want me to step in." They kissed. It was brief and chaste, their thoughts being elsewhere.

"Right then." She stiffened her resolve, and left the TARDIS.

…

The Doctor watched her leave, emotions coursing through his chest with his racing hearts.

_She won't be able to do it. It's Rory. Her Rory._

But he was her Doctor.

_He was there all those years when you weren't. He's her best friend._

She doesn't love him. Not in the same way.

_He can give her things you can't. She could have a family, a life, security._

She doesn't want that, she wants discovery, she wants adventure. She wants me!

_For now. What happens when she is no longer so young?_

He was gripping the console, knuckles white. He gave his head a sharp shake.

_Do the right thing. Leave. Now. Make the decision she is too short sighted to make._

He gave himself a hard slap in the head. Not leaving. Not alone. Not again.

_It's only a matter of time…_

…

Amy was walking down a cobbled street dusted with snow. The buildings all looked anonymous and residential, apart from a little rowdy pub with a sign reading _The Rose and Crown _in peeling letters.

Pubs were good places to order the mind, right? He might be in there.

She looked over her shoulder, back at the TARDIS. The door was open slightly. Was he watching her? She winked at the darkness, showing confidence she did not have, and proceeded to the door of the pub.

It was extremely noisy inside, and smelled of sweat and spilled ale. Soot and dust-covered men gathered around wooden tables, and a dark haired barmaid darted through the middle, holding a tray aloft.

"Alright love, you lookin' for someone?" She bellowed over the noise. "Don't usually get your sort round 'ere." She looked Amy up and down. Amy tugged on her short skirt self-consciously.

"Um, yes, have you seen a man, tall, light brown hair, dressed quite oddly?"

"Anyone not covered in soot'll stand out this end o' town dear. 'e was in 'ere yesterday but I ain't seen 'im since." She shrugged, the corners of her red lips turning down. "Sorry sweetheart."

Amy left the pub, pulling her jacket tighter around her. Yesterday? How on earth would she find him? Light spilled across the snow and Amy turned to see the door open once more.

"Try the Kingfisher Inn, it's usually got a bed spare."

"Thanks." The barmaid smiled at her and closed the door once more.

…

He watched through the crack between the doors as she reemerged from the pub. She obviously hadn't found him yet.

_She won't just give up and run back to your waiting arms you know._

She might never find him.

_She won't give up._

Then he would help her.

_Oh, you're so selfless. Bravo, helping your squeeze find the man she betrayed so she can give the knife that final fatal twist. Really noble of you. _

She needs to do this.

_You know you can't take him back. He's changed history. It's too late._

He at least deserves to know.

_Oh that's right, he should know she loves you instead. Know that she chose you over him. That will help him move on, correct? To love his Victorian wife unreservedly?_

He couldn't bare this. Sitting in the dark, alone, tormented by his thoughts. "Never be alone." She had said to him. She was right. He needed her.

But did she need him?

…

She knocked on the side entrance to the Inn, choosing that over the front where drunken men spilled out into the street. A balding man with rotting teeth heaved the door open and peered at her.

"What?"

"Sorry, hi, I'm looking for a Mr Rory Williams? Is he staying here?"

"Young fella? Needs a bit o' feedin' up? An' a few coppers to get 'him some kit?"

She nodded. He pulled the door open and gestured with a dirty thumb.

"Up the stairs, door at the end."

She shuffled past him, holding her breath against the smell.

As she climbed the stairs she tried to practice the scene in her head.

_"Hi, Rory. I know we're married and all that, and I know I said I'd love you 'til death do us part, but I'm actually going to go with that guy I ran off with the night before our wedding. Remember him? With the time machine?"_

_"Hi Rory, I know you wanted to go home, but we left you in the wrong time and now if you leave it'll change history."_

_"So Rory, you've got two choices; stay here and become a professor of medicine, win a nobel prize, and be knighted by King Edward V, or go home and become a lonely divorcee."_

She might have to display a degree more tact.

She reached the end of the corridor, and came face to face with what must be his door.

_Please let it be his door._

_Please don't let it be his door._

Two knocks. "Rory?"

…

The door flew open, and the Doctor leapt backwards, feet scrabbling for purchase on the metal floor. Silhouetted in the doorway was a tall figure in a top hat.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice was familiar, but it was dripping with bitterness and rage. The Doctor straightened himself, squinting against the streetlight blazing in from outside. As his eyes readjusted, the figure came into view.

He was looking at himself. But an older, twisted version. He stood, back hunched, lip curled, an expression of contempt on his slightly lined face.

"What. Are you. Doing. _Here_."

The Doctor cast around in his banks of knowledge and came up blank. If this was an older version of himself, then…

"Don't you know?" he asked.

The older Doctor's eyes flashed menacingly.

"That is the problem we are facing._ I don't know_. Which means _you_ are rewriting HISTORY." He prodded the Doctor sharply in the chest, and he had to put his foot out to right his balance.

"I-I had to. We left Rory here by accident, we had to come back-"

"You left Rory? Here?" The older eyes were widened in shock.

"Yes, by accident."

The older Doctor was shaking his head.

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

The Doctor was speechless.

"Then, what was supposed to happen? What happened to you?"

The older face smiled horribly.

"Pond chose him. Then the angels took him and she had to make a choice. The final choice. She could have stayed with you or gone back to him and _she_ _left you._"

His ears were ringing.

"No, no that's wrong." He stepped back from the hideous creature that was his future self. His chest was heaving.

"She loves me. ME." He bellowed.

But he was unmoving, this man, this time lord, frozen in bitterness and resentment. This was a raggedy doctor he refused to become.

"Leave, now." He mentally felt his TARDIS shiver as the wrong Doctor stepped inside her. "Leave them here. You can make this right before it's too late. They belong here, together, in the past. _Without you_."

He was shaking his head, unable to swallow.

"No. _No_. She doesn't want that. She doesn't want him."

"Amy chose him!"

"_My_ Amy chose ME."

The older Doctor faltered, and a pained look fluttered across his face.

"Fool. Can't you see you see she is not meant for you? Her fire will flicker and die if she stays with you. For a while it will seem like you are both living, both aging together, but then the time will come for you to take your next form, and you will leave her behind with nothing and no one. A lonely wonderer of worlds."

The Time Lord was up close now, his face in shadow with the light from the street lamps creating a wiry hallow around his head. An angel of misery.

_This is you without her._

"Give her the chance to live." The older Doctor growled. "Let go of your selfish desires."

And then he was turning on his heel, the tails of his tatty velvet coat billowing in the chilly winter wind as he strode out of the TARDIS into the grey streets beyond.

* * *

A/N I apologise, I know I've only raised more questions and answered none.


	18. Ch 18 - The Fire Catches

A/N This chapter was really difficult to write. Sorry for making you all wait, I wanted to get it right. But I think I've taken them all to where I want them. Phew.

PS. the "..."s signify a change in the point of view

**All characters belong to the BBC**.

_"Fool. Can't you see you see she is not meant for you? Her fire will flicker and die if she stays with you. For a while it will seem like you are both living, both aging together, but then the time will come for you to take your next form, and you will leave her behind with nothing and no one. A lonely wonderer of worlds."_

_The Time Lord was up close now, his face in shadow with the light from the street lamps creating a wiry hallow around his head. An angel of misery._

_This is you without her._

_"Give her the chance to live." The older Doctor growled. "Let go of your selfish desires."_

_And then he was turning on his heel, the tails of his tatty velvet coat billowing in the chilly winter wind as he strode out of the TARDIS into the grey streets beyond._

* * *

"Amy!"

Rory's heart soared as the light from his room revealed her face. She was standing in the hallway of the inn, red hair damp from the snow.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He had been wandering around this forsaken town for days, sleeping wherever he could find, desperately hoping she would come back to him. And now she had!

He stood aside to let her in, closing the door behind her. Then he pulled her into his arms.

After the glow of relief dissipated, he realized she was not hugging him back. He pulled away slightly and looked into her face. She was staring fixedly at the floor.

"Amy what's wrong?"

She glanced at him, and then closed her eyes. Seeming to gather herself, she stepped out of his embrace and took a deep breath.

"We need to talk, Rory."

…

He stared at her blankly.

"What, here? Now? Can't it wait until we're back in the TARDIS?"

She sighed. "No." _I can't take you back to him. Not after I've told you…_

He was looking at her expectantly. Warily.

"Well? What's so important?"

She frowned at him.

"Don't speak to me like that, this is difficult OK?"

"What is? Just spit it out!"

The relief she had felt on finding him was leaving her, turning into resentment that she had to do this.

"The TARDIS took you to the wrong year."

"Yes I sort of guessed that part."

"Shut up will you? The TARDIS took you to 1875. I'm sorry we left you here, I'm sorry neither of us noticed."

"Well, that's ok, I didn't notice immediately either…" His expression was softening. She plunged ahead.

"We left you here and then we met you again in another time."

He looked shocked.

"What? When? Another time?" His face darkened. "How?"

"Well, we didn't know it had been the wrong time until we saw you later."

"How much later?" He took a step towards her and she found herself feeling slightly intimidated by his closeness and his ominous tone. She took a step back.

"30 years."

His eyes widened, his face grew pallid. Then he shook his head and smiled weakly.

"But you can change that, right? I'm not stuck here. I mean, you're here now aren't you?"

"Yes," she swallowed "But I don't think we're supposed to be. You see, you being here changed history. Or rather," She made a waving gesture with her hand "It _makes _history. You're Sir Ronald Ross."

He looked stunned for a moment, and then laughed. It sounded empty and scary.

"Sir Ronald Ross! The discoverer of malaria?"

"Well technically I think you discovered how malaria is transmitted…" She trailed off. He was still laughing.

"How could I be Sir Ronald Ross?"

"You told me you moved on, you joined some Indian Medical group or something."

"Wait, what do you mean_ I_ told you?" He wasn't laughing anymore.

"In 1905, when we met you. You told me you were a professor at Liverpool University College. You.." she hesitated. "You had a family."

Rory gawped.

"I have children?" Amy noticed the change in tense. "But, does that mean I get married?"

"Some woman with dark hair. I didn't speak to her."

"But," He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly straining to wrap his head around the situation. "I can't stay here, I can't leave you." He opened his eyes again, gazing at her, his eyebrows quivering. The very picture of tragic.

"You can stay here and do all that." Amy heard her own voice shake as she delivered the ultimatum. "Or you can go back to the future and risk changing history."

"I can't stay here." He responded immediately, without thinking. He crossed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands. "I can't leave you, I love you!"

"Rory think! Think about what that would mean! Don't you realize the risks-"

"I don't care about the risks, I'm not leaving you!"

"You don't have a choice!" Amy shouted, silencing him. He let his hands drop to his sides.

"What do you mean, of course I do."

"No, you don't." Her heart was racing. She turned away from his wide-eyed expression, unable to see it while she delivered the final blow.

"I'm staying with the Doctor."

…

He blinked. _Staying? _

"Forever?" He asked her. She nodded, face turned away. He felt rage climbing inside him.

_Coward! He sent her to tell me that he's stolen her heart!_

Be rational. Be calm. Reason with her.

"Amy you're my wife." It was a statement of fact. She clenched her fingers and turned to look him full in the face.

"I don't want that life anymore."

"So you did then, but you don't now?" His voice was getting louder.

"No, I never did!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU LIE?" He bellowed. His heart was cracking open, his insides were threatening to explode. He was going to be sick. No, he was going to smash, tear, break this pathetic quivering girl he had promised to love for better or for worse. She was facing up to him defiantly.

"I loved you and I thought you wanted more than just a womb to carry your offspring!"

He felt the remark stab him sharply. How could she think that was all?

"Just a… Just a womb?" He was breathless with rage, with misery. "How could you think that?" Hot tears were spilling down his face. She clutched a hand to her chest and ran to him, as if without thought.

"Rory, no! I didn't mean it, I don't think that!" She framed his face wither hands as he had done to her earlier.

He stared into her blue eyes, pain blurring his vision. And then he was kissing her, desperately, passionately. He couldn't let her go, not his Amy, so bright and vibrant. She kept him alive, made him different to all the other drones out there. But then her voice echoed back to him. _I'm staying with the Doctor. _Revulsion coarsed through him, and he thrust her away from him.

She fell to the floor with a cry.

"You and him," Rory gasped "Did you- Have you-?"

"Yes." The word came cool and dark from the now open doorway. Standing in it was the tall lean figure of the Doctor, his fists clenched by his sides, his face stormy. He crossed the room in a couple of long strides and was crouching by her side, a hand on her cheek. She looked into his face with an expression of relief and… love. _Love?!_

He was breathing heavily.

"You and _him_? After all that- After all we've been through together? You're choosing _him?"_

Both men looked to Amy for her response. She clambered to her feet, brushing dust off her skirt. Her face was set. The Doctor stood with her, a protective hand on the small of her back.

"I choose the Doctor."

…

Relief flooded through him. The sound of her voice saying his name, like that, finally struck home to him that she really was his.

There was an exhalation like the sound of a balloon deflating. The Doctor gave Rory a sharp look. He had the air of a man utterly defeated. _Bloody puppy dog eyes._

But no, this man had been his friend. He may have resented him, envied him beyond anyone. But he had trusted him, laughed with him, journeyed with him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't enough, Amy." He turned to leave. As he neared them all the Doctor's muscles tensed.

"Leave me here, there's nothing for me in the future." But as he reached the doorway, he turned, his hand on the frame.

"You told me you spoke to an older me. In 30 years. When I see you, when I'm old, maybe I'll be able to change your mind. Maybe." He gave her one last wishful look, and then he was gone.

He left a ringing silence in his wake.

Emotions were battling in the Doctor's chest. He wanted to chase after Rory and tear him apart. He wanted to push Amy against the wall and claim her as his own. He wanted to break down and sob into her shoulder for how near he'd come to losing her.

She turned to face him, eyes shining. She reached up and brushed a tear off his cheek.

Then she took his hand, and led him away.

* * *

A/N Boy oh boy. I think they need a lot of lemon after all of that, wouldn't you agree?


	19. Ch 19 - All Consuming Flames

A/N Sorry for keeping you all waiting. Here's the lemon pie that last chapter promised.

**All characters belong to the BBC.**

_Emotions were battling in the Doctor's chest. He wanted to chase after Rory and tear him apart. He wanted to push Amy against the wall and claim her as his own. He wanted to break down and sob into her shoulder for how near he'd come to losing her._

_She turned to face him, eyes shining. She reached up and brushed a tear off his cheek._

_Then she took his hand, and led him away._

* * *

As soon as the TARDIS doors were closed, they were in each others arms. Amy buried her face into chest, breathing in his familiar smell.

At home she always felt like she was waiting, waiting for her Doctor to return to her, as though her life was on pause. But Rory had been her anchor to reality, making her go out and do things and have fun: A distraction and a lifeboat from the lethargic emptiness. Back in that inn that feeling had returned to her, but this time she was cutting away at her anchor. She was jumping out of the lifeboat with the hope that something would be there to catch her. For a terrible moment she feared there would just be open sea.

She clung to him, her hands gripping his tweed jacket. He stroked her back in long soothing movements, his cheek against the top of her head.

"Amy,"

She grunted. She didn't want to leave the warm safe cocoon of his arms.

"Amy we have to move the TARDIS."

She clung tighter.

"Why?"

"OK, _I_ _want_ to move the TARDIS."

She tilted her head back to look into his eyes, trying to read into the tone of his voice. This was one of the moments that his eyes looked older than his face. Something dark was lurking behind them. Something had happened since she had last seen him. He was running from something.

"OK," she replied simply. She wasn't in the mood to interrogate him. She unraveled her arms and he moved out them. She felt cold and fragile without him.

He strode over to the console and began jabbing buttons and flicking switches. Amy sat down to watch him in the graceful dance, long legs springing here and there, muscles flexing as he pulled levers. She could see him coming back to himself, his fringe falling in front of his sparkling green eyes, lips curling into a smile once more. As the engines wheezed and the TARDIS took off, he clapped his hands together in a single explosion of noise and let out a whoop of glee.

"Off she goes!"

He looked over at her, face still beaming, and she realized there was a smile on her own face now. He laughed and galloped over to her, scooping her up off the chair and spinning her in a circle. Her red hair flew out behind her as her laughter sang out with his.

The circles slowed and then they were kissing. He was still holding her above the glass floor, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands moved over her back to rest underneath her derriere, simultaneously supporting and stroking. As the kiss deepened, the TARDIS engines wheezed again and they lurched to the side. She pulled out of the kiss.

"The chair," she gasped.

He nodded. Staggering sideways as the TARDIS lurched again, he angled them so they fell onto the swivel chair by the console. She uncurled her legs and placed her knees either side of his thighs, straddling him. His hands were still cupping her rear, but now she was in control. She slipped her fingers underneath the lapels of his jacket and slid it off his shoulders, before nimbly unbuttoning his shirt. As her fingers worked their way up, she bent her head and pulled at his bowtie with her teeth. She felt a rumble of approval in the Doctor's throat. The bowtie unraveled easily and fell to the floor with the jacket.

"Why do you wear so many clothes?"

Getting impatient, she roughly pushed aside the straps of his braces and yanked his shirt off.

"Well, you know, so many places I go have such unpredictable climates..." He sat between her knees looking up at her, eyes dark with longing, lips parted. She ran her eyes and then her hands over his lean muscular torso.

"You mean so many planets _we_ go." Then she dived down again and took his mouth in a kiss, hands sliding up into his thick brown hair.

Eyes closed, lost in the feeling of his tongue against hers, she wasn't expecting the feeling of his hand between her legs. She gasped into his mouth but his teeth clamped down on her tongue, holding her there. His fingers wriggled underneath the lining of her tights and then her knickers, and then they were stroking her bare skin. She shuddered with the pleasure of it as two of his fingers parted her folds and a third began to stroke the slightly wet lips of her entrance. He always knew somehow what she liked. A frown fluttered over her brow as she wondered how he was so in tune with what women liked. Well, she'd soon wipe those past memories.

She skimmed a hand down his chest and came to rest over the bulge in his trousers. Their moans coincided as they both began to rub. His other hand pulled at her shirt and together they dragged it over her head. He undid her bra in one motion and it joined the heap of clothes on the floor.

She broke the kiss and looked down at him. He held her gaze as he lightly brushed his fingers over her bare breasts. Bolts of pleasure shivered through her at the points of contact. Her eyes closed, and then she felt his wet mouth on her left nipple.

She let out a little cry and the hand she was stroking him with spasmed, closing around his length through the material. He growled and she felt teeth grazing her. She gripped the hair at the back of his head and he began to lick mercilessly. Her hand wriggled underneath the waist band of his trousers and then she was rubbing it up and down, bringing deep rumbles of pleasure from somewhere in his chest. _He's mine._

Soon it was too much, and his mouth released her. She put her weight back on her feet so she could climb out of her skirt, and he tugged his long legs out of his trousers.

Finally, they were naked, laid bare for the other to see. For a beat of a moment they gazed at each other, but she couldn't wait any longer. She climbed back on top of him, her wet folds brushing his thigh. He ran his warm hands down the soft skin of her back to grip her hips. She tilted and rose, dragging her wetness up the length of him so he bared his teeth. Then he was at her entrance.

They looked into each other's eyes, bright with desire. He moved his face towards hers and they were kissing, tenderly, slowly. She moved her hips down, sliding over him, and his grip tightened with a moan. Once she had taken all of him, he broke the kiss and looked into her flushed face. Their breath mingled as they panted the same air.

"My impossible, beautiful Amelia." He ran his thumb over her pink bottom lip. "I love you so much."

The words expanded inside her, filling her with light and air, and then shined back out of her in the most stunning smile he had ever seen on a living being.

Her arms grasped his shoulders and then she was kissing him passionately, desperately. His hands flew back to her hips, which he gripped, and then he was thrusting against her, length sliding smoothly in and out, filling her and satisfying her exactly as she needed him to.

She moved her body against his. She rode him like his mistress, she ruled him like his queen. They kissed and gasped, kissed and moaned, kissed and sighed, climbing the waves together, bodies rolling like music.

The kiss ended, reluctance on both sides, but their lungs demanded oxygen. They were reaching the summit, breath coming short, skin damp with sweat, lips parted and eyelids heavy. Her breaths began to sound more like whimpers, his like moaning groans. She leaned into him, their chests together, each one's mouth against the other's ear.

Their thrusts became more erratic, and they were coming together, the sound of the other one's pleasure making it even more exquisite. It rolled over them, fully, completely, exhaustingly, and they were left panting and limp.

She looked up into his flushed face, and laughed weakly. Using the last vestiges of energy available to her, she dragged her legs up and wrapped them around him, pulling him to her. Through the fog of postcoital contentment, the Doctor savored the feeling of Amy's bare skin, of her breath against his ear.

"I love you too. More than all the galaxies of stars the TARDIS could take us to."

* * *

A/N Sated? For now at least. But what was that odd noise the TARDIS made...?


	20. Ch 20 - A Warm Glow

A/N More answers coming in this chapter folks.

**All characters belong to the BBC.**

_She looked up into his flushed face, and laughed weakly. Using the last vestiges of energy available to her, she dragged her legs up and wrapped them around him, pulling him to her. Through the fog of postcoital contentment, the Doctor savored the feeling of Amy's bare skin, of her breath against his ear._

_"I love you too. More than all the galaxies of stars the TARDIS could take us to."_

* * *

Amy's eyes opened groggily, and as the room came into focus she also became aware of a very stiff neck. As she started to move, the rest of her limbs complained as well.

She looked around blearily. The TARDIS was dark, with a faint golden light throbbing on and off, periodically lighting the console room and plunging it into darkness. Despite the aching of her body she was incredibly cosy, her bare skin against his, radiating heat back and forth, covered by the scratchy material of his tweed jacket. She looked up at him, his head fallen forwards, his eyelids twitching, on the verge of wakefulness.

She stretched her stiff arms, shivering as they left the warmth of the jacket, before curling back up and nuzzling her head into the curve of his neck.

…

A while later, she woke again, curled in the chair on her own, still covered by the Doctor's jacket. She looked around the console room, and her eyes found him, silhouetted in the light of the stairs as he stood in the open doorway. Amy let the jacket fall to the floor, and briefly registered that she was wearing the Doctor's canvas shirt, before bounding over to him. Her momentum as she hit him made him stagger forward.

"WOAH, Amy!"

She wrapped her arms around his waist, anchoring him to her.

"It's OK, I've got you."

He laid one arm on top of hers and leaned against the doorframe with the other, laughing.

"Commendable enthusiasm but," he gestured at the stars and the black vacuum beyond, "Open space? Danger of being lost forever? You've got to consider basic health and safety."

She scoffed.

"Health and safety my arse. Ain't nothing healthy or safe about running around with you." She squeezed his waist and rubbed her cheek against his bare shoulder blade. "Good morning."

He traced patterns in the skin of her arm with his fingertips and remained silent. For the first time she realized something was wrong.

"What's up?" She leaned to peer at his face, which was set and worried. As her hair fell across his arm he registered her gaze and pulled his expression into a smile.

"I'm just thinking about all the dirty things I get to do with you as we float together with no one around to interrupt or over hear." He shot her a look and raised his eyebrows suggestively. She prodded him between the ribs.

"Don't try and distract me, I know there's something wrong."

He looked back at the stairs and sighed, the smile leaving his face. She gave him time to think, to formulate his explanation, and then gave him a little shake.

"Tell me,"

"OK, Amy, give me a minute."

"I've given you at least half an hour!"

"Pff, don't try to con me," He gave her an accusing look out of the corner of his eye. "Time Lord, remember?"

"Right now the only thing you're lord of is delaying the inevitable. You're going to have to tell me sooner or later you know."

"I know no such thing. Perhaps the best option for everyone involved is for me to keep it to myself."

Amy let her arms fall to her sides, causing the Doctor to turn and face her. She glared at him.

"If you really believe that then you're basically saying I'm nothing more than a guest here." He frowned at her, and she could almost see the cogs turning in his brain. He appeared to concede.

"No, I don't believe that, of course not." He closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands.

"You're the most important person to me. I want you to be part of my life." He bit his lip, obviously considering how to phrase what was on his mind.

He looked so adorable in that moment that she tilted forwards on her toes and kissed him softly. He slipped his hands into her hair, stroking the fiery locks with tenderness as his lips pressed against hers. Then he pulled back and exhaled.

"We've been a bit naughty."

She cocked her eyebrow suggestively and he scowled.

"No, now look, this is serious." He waggled a disciplinary finger at her.

"Time travel comes with certain hazards." He took her hand in his and led her back to the doorway, where he stood behind her.

"One of the main ones is rewriting key moments in time." He brushed her hair away from her shoulder and planted a kiss on the bare skin on her neck.

"Another is crossing my own timeline." He pulled her back into him, so she was resting her head on his chest. She heard his next words through the rumble in his chest.

"I'm afraid we've failed to avoid both of those hazards."

The tone in his voice made her go cold. "Elaborate before I panic."

"We managed to maintain Rory's timeline of becoming Sir Ronald Ross, but we've completely deviated from your own timeline." She turned in his arms so she could look at his face, which was strained.

"How do you know?"

"Well that involves the second hazard of crossing my own timeline."

"You met your future self?"

"Yes." A shadow crossed his face as he remembered the harrowed figure that had stood exactly where they were now standing. Amy did not miss it.

"What did he tell you?"

"He was alone," He closed his eyes "…I'm supposed to be alone."

She reached up and smoothed his brow with a delicate thumb. He opened his eyes and gazed at her. He looked so sad, so lost.

"Well you're not alone. So now what?"

She didn't ask what happened to her. She didn't care. As far as she was concerned, that timeline wasn't her timeline, and she wasn't that Amy. She was his Amy.

"The TARDIS is stuck in limbo, unable to travel anywhere because she doesn't know what to do with your empty timeline."

She nodded, taking it in, pushing down the fear, confident that he would have the answer.

"So what do we do about it?"

When she said _we _not _you_, he took her hand and placed it on his bare chest, right between his hearts.

"_I _need to show her that your timeline is now tied to mine." She could feel his hearts beating, racing in fact. He was leaning closer, his green eyes piercing. She felt a little breathless, her lips parting almost involuntarily.

"And… how are you going to do that?"

He was so close she could see all the flecks sparking out from his pupils.

"By telling you my name." He breathed, before taking her mouth in a passionate kiss that melted her insides.

* * *

A/N I feel as though the revelation of the Doctor's name may come with a sizeable lemon pie. Review!


	21. Ch 21 - Fire, Fire, Burning Bright

A/N Well, here we are.

**All characters owned by the BBC**

_"I need to show her that your timeline is now tied to mine." She could feel his hearts beating, racing in fact. He was leaning closer, his green eyes piercing. She felt a little breathless, her lips parting almost involuntarily._

_"And… how are you going to do that?"_

_He was so close she could see all the flecks sparking out from his pupils._

_"By telling you my name." He breathed, before taking her mouth in a passionate kiss that melted her insides._

* * *

She pulled her lips out of the kiss with a breathless gasp.

"Y-you're going to tell me your name? Right now? Here?"

His eyebrows raised and he looked slightly lost.

"Well, yes."

His hand was still holding hers against his chest, where she could feel his hearts racing.

_He's seen and done so much, but this is completely new to him._

She felt joy rising in her chest like bubbles in champagne, like the sparks in fireworks, and she grinned madly at him.

"Come on,"

…

"I can't believe I've never done this."

They were sat on the roof of the TARDIS, knees tucked up. Amy was cradled in the shelter of the Doctor's arm, her head on his shoulder. Foreheads together, they gazed at the stars and planets scattered through the velvety blackness above and around them.

"You should install a skylight."

"Amy the sight of the time vortex can drive a person insane."

She looked at the side of his face, lit by the blue light from below. There was a note of sadness in his voice, of some past tragedy. She supposed she would have to get used to that. He looked down at her, and smiled his boyish smile, before brushing his lips against hers. She ran her fingers through his hair, and as her eyelashes fluttered closed she felt his warm palms enclose her cheeks.

"Amelia."

She sighed and opened her eyes. His face was so close to hers that his green irises were like planets. He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs.

"My impossible beautiful Amy."

She felt breathless, her blood was singing in her veins.

"Doctor,"

But he shook his head, a gleam in his eyes, and leaned in to whisper in her ear, a word, or phrase, in a dialect she didn't understand: A word that the TARDIS did not or could not translate: A word that was like song, like verse: A word that poured into her mind like water and ice and fire.

As he pulled back and gazed steadily at her, she saw her own stunned expression reflected in his eyes, and in the eyes of her reflection was his reflected face. The word danced between them, tying, binding, electrifying.

She couldn't feel her feet from the cold, her back hurt from their uncomfortable sitting positions, the TARDIS roof was incredibly unforgiving against her backside, but her heart filled with so much elation that it felt like it was expanding in her chest, pushing against her ribs, bursting out of her in the most ecstatic of laughs. He drank in her laughter, the euphoric expression on her face, and felt truly complete for the first time in his very long memory.

He pulled her face to his and lavished it with kisses, fingers clenching in her fiery red hair, happiness and relief causing him to shake. He was weak with it, helpless before her, any previously erected barriers stripped and torn away. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him bodily towards her, pressing herself against him.

The stars and galaxies and supernovas moved around them, constant, undeviated, and they floated on the tiny blue box that was so much bigger on the inside, insignificant like insects, majestic like gods.

…

It was extremely difficult climbing back down, but they somehow managed it. When they got through the doorway he picked her up, arms cradling her, walking them both blindly across the console room and up the stairs. She clung to his neck, opening her mouth to his. His tongue against hers triggered a shiver of electricity through her, and she felt herself grow hotter.

He finally got them to the bedroom, and dropped her upside down on the bed. Before she could figure out what had happened he was bending over her, hands planted either side of her waist, hot mouth on the inside of her thigh. Reaching up over her head, she unzipped his trousers and dragged them down his legs. There was a deep growl from him as he stepped out of them and up onto the bed. Poised above her on all fours, he pulled off her skirt and returned his wet tongue to her bare skin.

She dragged her eyes away from the sight of his jaw, of his arms flexing as he dipped his head to lick towards where her legs met. Her gaze came to rest on his dark blue briefs, straining above her. She tilted her chin up and licked his tip, slowly enough that her saliva soaked through the material. He shivered and she felt his teeth graze her thigh.

_No mercy._

She wrapped her lips around him, sucking and licking, until he in turn enveloped her center in his warm mouth, until his saliva was soaking through to her pleasure. They both tore at the offending garments, tugging them away with impatience. Now was not the time for games. This was raw need. She raised her head and took him in her mouth, running her tongue along his length and encasing him in her warm wetness. In response he sank two fingers into her, flicking her clit with his clever tongue. Their hips bucked, their voices harmonized as they groaned deeply, chests rumbling their combined desire.

As it did every time, his ministrations just made her want him more, giving her greater need for all of him. She let her head drop back onto the bed and she moaned for him. He responded immediately, rolling off her and pulling her on top of him. She pulled her shirt off over her head, and he absentmindedly undid the buttons of his shirt, attention focused on her as she exposed her porcelain breasts; hair a mess of flame, lips like swollen strawberries. She leaned down to him, pressing their bare chests together, hearts as close as they could be.

"Not close enough…" He breathed, and he softly but firmly took her hips and guided her onto him. She gasped and moaned as he sheathed himself inside her, filling her and completing her. Then they rocked, damp skin sliding, hands grasping, sighing and panting together. He ran his hands up her sides, feeling her smooth skin, reaching her breasts and molding them in his palms. Then he began to flick her nipples with his thumbs, bucking his hips as he did so. The sharp tingling shiver of his hands working her breasts, the deep hot satisfaction of him slamming into her, again, again, again…

"Oh, _yes_…"

"_Oh, yes!_"

He rolled them both over and latched his mouth onto the skin of her shoulder, anchoring him to her as he moved his hips, deliciously sliding in and out of her, hitting her perfectly, one hand creeping between her legs to satisfy every part of her. She stroked her hands down his back, feeing his muscles work as he moved against her, and as the familiar feeling began to gather and focus on where their bodies joined, she dug her fingers in.

They captured the moment in a long messy desperate passionate kiss, limbs quaking, pleasure rolling through them. Their bodies relaxed as their movements slowed, and they were left entwined, sweaty and blissful.

…

The TARDIS shuddered and a wheezing noise echoed through her corridors. The Doctor, ears ever tuned to her, immediately sat up.

Amy grumbled.

"Don't go now…"

But he had her hand, and was pulling her up, out, through the corridors, bare feet slapping on the metal flooring, joyful laughter reverberating ahead and behind and around them.

"Me and you, Amelia Pond!" He called back to her. "All times and all places!"

He looked back at her, her flaming red hair streaming behind as she galloped with him. She spread her arms out as if she were flying.

"Always!" she crowed.

* * *

A/N Well, I do hope you enjoyed that everyone. This is unfortunately the end of this particular story. Maybe I'll start writing a sequel in the future but for now let's let these two enjoy their bliss uninterrupted.

Review!


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